Denial
by Jenny70529
Summary: Sequel to Jealousy. Nick is struggling to stand by his sister when it seems he's the only one willing to. Greg and Sara try to build their relationship. Cath and Warrick find out actions lead to consequences.
1. Chapter One

**Disclaimer: ** I don't own anything or anyone, but I'm always willing to buy. 

**Author's Notes:** This is a sequel to "Jealousy" which was a sequel to "Remorse", so this would actually be a, what, triquel? 

It picks up a few months after "Jealousy", and will focus on Greg/Sara/Nick, with some Catherine/Warrick (although they don't appear in the first part, they will be in the second). Hope you enjoy, and trust me, it will get better than this first bit. 

Please let me know what you think! I'll try to have more this weekend, if there's any interest. 

_Jenny_

**Denial**

Nick sat across from his sister, Jessica, the cold steel table making a few feet seem like miles. When they were little, she used to tell him she was going to be an air traffic controller, because she liked the neon orange and green vests they wore. He had told her she should be a crossing guard, because they got to wear the orange vests too, and their sister Karen had suggested being an auto mechanic because they could wear any color coveralls they wanted to, just in case her favorites changed. But Jessica, then only 11, maybe 12, had insisted she was going to wear the neon vests, the heavy duty ear muffs, and wave the neon cones, because 'planes were cooler than cars'. 

That day seemed like an eternity ago, and now a completely grown up Jessica was sitting in front of him, clad in the dingy orange overalls the county provided to her, her feet bound with chains, her dark brown hair which used to be full of body and shine hanging dully around her pale, tired face. He wanted nothing more than to take her out of this place, bring her home with him, yell at the prison system for taking away his sister's zest for life. At other times, he wanted to take his cold plastic chair and swing it at her for doing something so stupid, no matter what the situation had been at the time. 

He had gotten bits and pieces of the story from her, hardly paralleling what the 10:00 news had shown, and he felt his heart break a little more each time he saw her sad, empty eyes. It had been 5 months, 5 long, painfully slow months, since she had called him to confess, since he had brought her into the police station to talk with Brass. 5 months since they shuffled him away, not even allowing him to watch through the viewing room window. 5 months since she had come out in cuffs, silent tears streaming down her face as she begged him to forgive her, to ask Karen and their parents to forgive her. 5 months since he had been allowed to give her one quick hug, promising her he'd do whatever he could to help her, promising her that everything would be okay. 

Things were far from okay. Jessica was sitting in prison, with hardened criminals, barely hanging in there. There were dark circles under her eyes, which he knew nearly matched his, and she had lost a lot of weight. She used to smile, greet him warmly when he visited, but now she couldn't even manage that. To imagine her here for the rest of his life, he just couldn't handle it. He thought of visiting her less frequently, but the thought of her being alone and vulnerable was too much for him to bear, so he managed to keep his weekly visiting appointment, despite the way it was eating away at his happiness, his relationships, his sanity. 

He couldn't blame her, he had thought of killing Travis so many times, but he had never intended on doing it. From what Jessica had told him, she hadn't either. 

Karen had flown to Vegas to see Nick, to plead for his help in her current baby predicament. Travis was angry, known to fly off the handle at a moment's notice, and Karen had been frightened for her and her baby's lives. If she would have made it to Vegas without incident, maybe things would be different. 

Instead, Travis found out where she was going, and followed her, closely enough so that they managed to end up on the same flight. What Travis hadn't known was that Jessica was on the flight too, making sure her brother-in-law didn't get too close to her big sister, whom she had taken it as her duty to protect. Karen was running away, Travis was chasing Karen, Jessica was chasing Travis. If Jessica had thought things couldn't get any worse, they immediately did. Travis had seen her, while walking to the bathroom on the plane, after a quiet, yet heated argument with his pregnant wife. 

He had lost his temper, causing a scene on the plane, getting himself seated in the front, with a flight attendant to keep an eye on him for the remaining half hour of the trip, while Jessica remained her seat, silently fuming. She never tolerated being yelled at very well, which is why she was always after Karen to leave Travis, she didn't want to see anyone else mistreated either. 

They had arrived in Las Vegas with no further disturbance, and Jessica had managed to sneak Karen away from the airport, leaving Travis behind to explain to a security guard why he had thrown a fit on a commercial airplane. Jessica had been instructed to stay behind and give a statement, but had told a flight attendant the situation, and had been advised to leave the airport as soon as possible, they even had security escorting them to the cab area. 

Once they got to the hotel, though, it was a different story. Karen had reserved a room in her name, which Travis had been able to track, and he showed up a few hours after they arrived in town, with the phrase "pissed off" being a monumental understatement. Words were exchanged, and Karen let it slip about the pregnancy. He raised his hand to hit her, and Jessica stopped him dead in his tracks, quite literally, as it would turn out. She had grabbed the first thing that she could place her hands on, which happened to be a heavy lamp, and sent it crashing over his head. 

Not knowing what to do, she and Karen called their parents for advice. Mr. and Mrs. Stokes had been on the next flight to Las Vegas, instructing both girls not to do anything until they arrived. Originally, Mr. Stokes had meant not to talk to the police without a representative present, but the girls took it to mean not even to call the authorities and inform them of Travis's death. By the time their parents got there, Jessica had already decided it was too late to call the police, they'd arrest her on the spot, and it would be easier to just hide the body and pretend nothing ever happened. Mr. and Mrs. Stokes had tried to talk her out of her decision, but seeing that her mind was made up, both gave in and vowed to help and protect their daughter in any way they could. 

That part of the story is what pissed off Nick the most. His parents knew better, they worked with the law, they knew what was right and wrong, what was a good choice and a bad once, what was able to be used as defense in court and what was not. It made him sick to know they let Jessica set herself up like they did. While it was difficult raising seven children, his parents did the best they could. The older children looked after the younger ones, and they all generally watched out for one another. 

Being as their ages were grouped together, they had been split into two "groups" as Karen had once put it, the "independent" ones and the "younger" ones. While each Stokes child could look out for his or herself, their parents couldn't help but separate the two groups of children. Nick, Karen, and Jessica had the unfortunate classification as the younger children, therefore, their lives got meddled in more, their decisions were usually brought before the family like a trial, and nothing could be done without their parents interference. 

That was probably the reason Nick had been so eager to leave Texas, although he had never really thought through the logic of his decision. He knew, now, that if he had stayed around, he'd probably be a higher rank in the crime lab in Dallas, he'd also be living down the street from his parents, talking to them every day, having his life pulled apart with a fine tooth comb. Even though he loved them, he hated to have his life interfered in, so he looked forward to his weekly conversations with his parents and siblings, and the rest of the time, he did his own thing. Karen and Jessica, while still living close to home, had done the same, stemming out from being overprotected as children to making their own choices and pushing their parents away. 

Ironically, the group of Stokes children that had always been considered "independent", Steven, Melanie, Nicole, and Hailey, were still living within 15 minutes of "home", probably unaware of the finer details of Jessica's arrest. For the immense interest his parents had always had in him growing up, they hadn't been to visit Jessica but twice since she had been arrested. 

The evidence had been clear, her hair was found in the knot closing the trash bag, her prints were all over the outside, along with his father's, and Jessica had the mode, means, and opportunity to kill Travis and cover it up, before heading back home. They had arrested their father for being an accessory to murder, but he had made bail almost immediately and because of his status in his Texas community, had been allowed to go home with his wife the next day. 

Jessica hadn't been so lucky. And so here Nick was, as he was every other Wednesday afternoon, sitting across from his quiet sister, trying to figure out when life got so hard. 

"I want you to stop visiting me." 

Nick's head jerked up from where he had been studying engravings on the table, "What?" He asked with wide eyes, "You can't be serious, Jessie." 

"Every time you come, you look like someone has kicked your puppy, and it's getting worse and worse. You look like you haven't been sleeping, you're getting as thin as I am, you're pale. Stop letting this eat you alive, Nicky, it's bad enough that one of us has to be in here all the time, let yourself live a bit, okay?" Jessica squeezed his hand, "And that's an order, baby brother." 

Nick shook his head, "You're all alone in here, Jessie, I can't just abandon you like that. You need someone on your side." 

"I know you're on my side." Jessica replied, giving his hand another squeeze, "And I want you to visit me, just not because you feel obligated, but because you miss me and are dying to see me. And don't give me that bull about you already visiting me because you're dying to see me. We saw each other maybe 3 times a year before all of this happened. Cut it back a little, okay? If you get so burnt out that you screw up at work and get fired, I'll feel guilty forever. I may not even be able to live with myself, and you don't want that, do you?" 

Despite the way her orange coveralls made her face paler than it was, Nick could see the love radiating off of her features. He almost felt a little better, knowing somewhere deep inside, his sister still resided, "I'm sorry...I just wish I could do something to help. I hate feeling so useless." 

"I know you do." Jessica whispered softly, "You live with the consequences of your actions, you know that, and I know that. I made my bed, and so on. Tell me something happy. How's Karen?" 

Nick smiled, the first true smile he had shown possibly all week, "She had her baby on Saturday evening. A little girl, named Justine Kay. She was six pounds, 4 ounces. They say that's good for being born nearly a month early. Karen's positively radiating, I could feel it over the phone, I made sure to tell her that even if she's happy now, she doesn't know what she's getting herself into, just like you told me." 

"I'm happy for her, I really am. If that son of a bitch was still alive, little Justine probably wouldn't be. In fact, I'm sort of glad I did it." Jessica admitted softly, a blush creeping into her cheeks. 

Nick shook his head, "I know he was scum, Karen knows it, Mom and Dad know it, but you can't go around saying you did a good thing. They have the death penalty here, you know. I'm not about to lose my favorite big sister, you hear me?" 

"I thought Karen was your favorite." Jessica retorted, "Or is that only when you need something from her?" 

Nick smiled sadly, "You're both my favorite. You know that if it was Mel in here, I wouldn't be visiting." 

"Don't lie, you'd be visiting any one of us, and you know it. It's who you are, Mr. Nice Guy. Don't change, okay Nicky? No matter what happens, promise me you'll always be Mr. Nice Guy?" Jessica asked, concern on her face, tears in her eyes. 

Nick nodded, rubbing both of her hands, "I promise." 

Sara walked into the living room, a banana in her hand, "So what movie are we going to see tonight? Please tell me it's not some B-grade horror flick." 

"It's an action movie." Greg replied, tossing the newspaper on the floor and receiving a glare from Sara, "You'll love it, don't give me that look." 

"Stop throwing the paper on my floor then." Sara snapped, swatting him with the stack of newspapers she had already picked up, "There's a recycling bin right outside of my apartment door, use it once in awhile, okay?" 

Greg wrapped his arms around her waist, inhaling deeply, "So, no interruptions tonight, right? If Grissom calls-" 

"I'm going to turn my phone off as soon as we leave the apartment. If my pager goes off, I'll only respond if it says "911, your house is on fire". I'm all yours this time, I promise." Sara replied, leaning into his embrace, "It won't be like the last 7 times." 

Greg laughed, "If he keeps it up, the first movie we planned on seeing may be out on DVD before we get a chance to watch it." 

The phone rang, and Sara went to answer it, not even bothering to check the caller ID, she was pretty sure it was going to be Grissom, and she was definitely going to tell him where to shove his overtime today. "Sidle." 

"Sara? It's Nick...I need you." Nick's hoarse voice rang through the phone. 

Sara immediately shifted her attention to her phone call, asking worriedly, "What's wrong? Where are you?" 

Nick sighed heavily, the unshed tears audible through his voice, "I just got home from visiting Jessica...I could really use a friend right now. I know you're off work tonight, and I think I'm going to call in sick..." 

Sara looked from Greg, who was standing with his arms folded across his chest in a defensive position, down to the floor, weighing her decision heavily. On one hand, she and Greg had been trying to get a night off together for awhile now, and she was actually looking forward to hanging out with him. 

They hadn't really progressed much in their relationship, except for the fact that now they were each other's best friends and closest confidants, they still weren't physical, they were mostly just casually dating, getting through one day at a time. Over the last few weeks, though, Sara had to admit she was becoming more and more drawn to Greg, and the thought of losing a possible romantic evening really broke her heart. 

On the other hand, Nick was also one of her best friends, and he was going through a lot right now. His family had practically abandoned him and his sister after she turned herself in, his concentration at work was being affected by the personal stress in his life, he hadn't been eating or sleeping properly, and everyone knew he was treading in dangerous ground right now in his life. She couldn't just abandon a friend when he needed her the most, could she? She could have nights out with Greg any time, but if she didn't go to Nick now, what would happen to him? He sounded like he was really in a bad place. 

Shooting an apologetic look at Greg, she sighed, "I'll be there in half an hour, okay?" 

"Are you sure? I don't want to inconvenience you or anything. Did you have plans tonight?" 

Sara forced herself to laugh, "Plans? Me? Get real Nicky." 

Sara and Greg hadn't let anyone know they were "sort of" dating, as Greg put it, and so far no one had figured it out, that they knew of. Of course, what was there to really figure out? It wasn't like they were making love in the janitors closets or groping each other in the break room, that was the beauty of taking things slowly, it didn't give people a lot to catch on with. 

"Thanks Sara, I'll see you soon." 

Sara hung up, and as soon as the phone clicked shut, Greg's angry voice asked, "_Nick? _You're blowing off our date for _Nick_?" 

**TBC, Let me know what you think!**


	2. Chapter Two

**Disclaimer:** I don't own them, and believe you me, you'd know if I did. 

**Author's Notes:** Well, I'm pleased that I managed to get this out tonight, I wasn't planning on writing at all today, it's been a rough week so far at work, but I was so wound up that I needed to get my frustration out, so voila! That would also explain any mistakes you find, or if you think it's crappy overall, I was totally distracted while writing. Good news: I got a (semi) promotion at work-instead of apprentice, I'm going to be '2nd assistant', which means that I am a lot more involved. Bad news: 1st assistant was out today, and I had to do some hands-on training at work (which up until now I had only done this much detailed work on the computer simulation program) and I had to participate in an autopsy of a young little boy. Just when I think I'm cut out for my job, I'm complimented on my lack of being squeamish, I'm praised constantly for jumping right in and learning quickly, something like this comes along and makes me turn into a weepy little ball of sadness. 

I like replies. They make me happy. If I get them, I shall work harder to produce. It's bribes for the less financially stable people. 

_Jenny_

**Two:**

"Nick! Sara, come on! You said tonight was just going to be about us!" Greg said angrily, his hands clenched into angry fists, "No interruptions, remember?" 

"Greg, he sounds really bad, you know how hard he's been struggling with his family, he said he needed a friend." Sara said calmly, trying to keep her cool, because she knew if she did, Greg would. The last thing she needed was for them to start fighting. 

Greg shook his head, "It's always about Nick, and this little 'friendship' you guys have. Sometimes I think you spend more time with him than you do with me." 

"That's bull and you know it." Sara snapped, "Nick's just a friend, he's not more important to me than you are, and I resent you saying that he is. You know that you come first in my personal life, and it pisses me off that you still don't trust me." 

Greg crossed his arms, his eyes narrowed, "I do trust you, Sar, but it's hard to believe that nothing's going on and that you're focused on us when every other minute you're rushing in to work, you're running off to Nick's house, you're going shopping with Catherine instead of breakfast with me. Do you not even care about having private time with me? I thought that if we took this slow, you'd be able to make a commitment, apparently, you're just unable to." 

"Don't even start with that crap, Greg!" Sara yelled, slamming her fist against the couch, "I want a relationship, I want _you_ Greg, even though I'm not sure _why_ right now. What about the times you hang out with the guys? Or when you go home after shift to play those stupid online video games? How _dare_ you say I'm not committed? Am I not allowed to have other friends? I could have sworn you weren't that kind of guy, but you know what? Every day you surprise me a little more." 

Greg's anger deflated slightly and a hurt look crossed his face as he watched her slam through her apartment, grabbing her shoes and purse, "You're allowed to have friends, but normal friends don't spend the night at their female friend's apartment and answer her phone, do they?" 

Sara turned to face him, her jaw open in surprise, "Excuse me?" She said, her voice low and cold, "Any time that Nick has stayed here has been completely platonic, we're _just friends_ Greg. How many times do I have to tell you? So what if he comes over when I'm having a rough time? So what if I do the same for him? So what if he picks up my phone? Maybe, before you jump to conclusions, you should get the facts." She slammed her fist down on the counter, the sound reverberating through the apartment, anger flashing in waves across her face, "And for the record, smartass, you have spent far more many nights here, before we had a relationship, than Nick ever has. Don't be a fool, stop acting like some hormonal-driven teenager." 

"Maybe you should tell him the same thing." Greg said, his tone accusing, unable to stop his words before they exited his mouth. He had been trying to keep his temper and jealousy cool for months now, the night he told Sara he wanted a relationship, only to have Nick answer her phone still in the front of his mind. Now that he had started the 'Nick' fight, he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop himself before saying something he'd regret. "Sara, I'm a guy, I know how guys act, I know what he's thinking, and he's thinking that he wants to get _my_ girlfriend to _his_ apartment to stay over God-knows-how-long instead of going to the movies with _me_!" 

Sara spun around from her spot by the door, her hand shaking in anger, "Greg, that is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard you say. His sister is in jail, Greg! He's been going crazy over that, you know how close his family is, you know how hard this has been on him! Have you ever seen someone you love locked up? Known they've killed someone? Have you ever had anyone you loved sitting across that table from you, knowing they would be in prison for the rest of their life? Knowing someone else's blood is on their hands? Do you know what that does to a person? Do you have any clue how that makes you feel? Don't tell me he's got some secret agenda. Until you've been in that position, I don't want to hear it. Keep it up, and _I_ won't be _your_ girlfriend anymore." 

"How would _you_ know?" Greg retorted, "Sometimes I find it hard to believe you _could_ love anyone." 

The moment the words were out of his mouth, he wanted to take them back. 

He saw her face pale slightly, as her mouth slightly opened with shock, blinking back tears that had instantly welled up in her eyes. She clenched her fists, shaking her head and saying with a shaky voice, "I don't have time for this. My _friend_ needs me." 

"Sara, I'm sorry." Greg said, taking a step towards her, "Please, I didn't mean to-" 

He was rewarded with the resonating sound of the front door slamming shut behind her. Sitting down on the couch, he propped his elbows on his knees, sighing heavily, then dropping his head into his hands. He had screwed up this time, and bad. He could tell he had hurt her, badly, and now he was left alone to kick himself over it while his angry girlfriend went to her male best friend's house. Sending an angry girlfriend to a man's house was almost as bad as sending a horny one...he had royally screwed it up this time. 

Picking up the phone, he dialed information, "Las Vegas, Nevada..Vegas Florists...Thank you." 

He hung up the phone, digging out his wallet and dialing the number he had just been given. After a few seconds, he spoke nervously, "Yes, this is Greg Sanders, and I need to have 2 dozen red roses delivered to..." 

Sara knocked on Nick's door, her tears wiped away, and a fake smile on her face. This wasn't the time to dwell on her problems, there would be plenty of time for that later when she curled up on the couch with beer, ice cream, and her favorite forensics documentary series. 

She hated to fight with Greg, with anyone she was close to, actually. She knew he was jealous, but she couldn't find a way to show him it wasn't necessary, that there was nothing to be jealous over. Every time Nick's name came up, though, Greg got moody and snippy, sometimes more than others, but it was starting to work Sara's patience. 

She was allowed to have friends, and some of her friends happened to be male. If Warrick was in the same situation, she'd be at his house too, it wasn't only limited to Nick. 

She could see his point, she had spent a lot of time flirting with Nick when she first arrived in Vegas, and he had spent a lot of time at her apartment, but what irritated her the most was that Greg wouldn't believe her when she said nothing was going on between them. She just wanted to be trusted by the man who was supposed to love her. 

Nick's door opened and Sara drew in a sharp breath, "Oh, honey, you look awful." 

"Thanks." Nick replied dryly, stepping aside to allow her in, "I just don't know what to do anymore." 

Sara gave him a tight hug, noticing how thin he had gotten over the past few months. His house was filthy, trash on the floor and tables, files pertaining to Jessica's case littering the counter space. Seeing Sara's confused face, Nick explained, "Her lawyer made me copies to see if I could find anything useful. It doesn't look too good for her." 

He sat down with a loud sigh, and Sara sat beside him, taking his hand into hers, "You'll make it, so will Jess. You both are fighters, as long as you have each other, you'll be able to keep up the fight." 

"She doesn't want me to visit anymore." Nick said softly, breaking down and allowing the tears he had been holding back to fall, "Sara, she's my big sister. All I want to do is get her out of that place, back to Texas where she belongs. How can one mistake change so much? Why Jessie? How could she have done this?" 

Sara pulled him into an awkward hug, unsure of what to say. She really wasn't the best at these types of situations. Instead of speaking, she just held him close and let him cry it out. Sometimes crying was the best therapy. After a few minutes, he seemed to start regaining his composure. 

"I'm going to Texas." He said softly, his angry tone betraying the quiet words, "I'm going to confront my parents, I'm going to find out why they haven't called, haven't visited. She's still their daughter, no matter what she's done, she's still family. You don't turn your back on family." 

Sara bit her lip, looking down at her hands, trying not to be defensive. Sometimes, yes, you do turn your back on your family. This just wasn't the time to voice that. 

She squeezed his hand, "Nicky, if you think it will make a difference, or even make you feel better, do it. Do what you need to do to get through this. And if it gets them to come visit Jess, then that's even better. I'm sure she misses them." 

"You know what?" Nick said, the anger bursting out as he jumped to his feet and slammed his fist in the wall, "She misses the hell out of them, all of them! Mom, Dad, Karen, our other sisters and brother, and they don't give a rat's ass about her. Not even a letter, Sara! How hard would it be to get out a damn pen and sheet of paper and just say 'we haven't forgotten about you'. She is in that cell, waiting to be tried for murder, and it's all because of _Karen's_ loser husband! But has Karen lifted a finger to see her? To deal with the aftermath? No! This whole thing just makes me sick, it really ticks me off." 

Sara watched him pace the room angrily, venting about the lack of support Jessica had gotten throughout the whole process, about how Nick was the family outcast for making Jessica talk to the police, about how it seemed his whole family forgot that they worked for the side of the law dedicated to serving justice. It was the good ole' boy system, he could almost guarantee that if this would have happened back on the Stokes' territory, Jessica would be in her own bedroom, without a care in the world. It would have been a returned favor to either of his parents, and no one would have even missed Travis's body. If Nick had to name one thing he hated most in the world, 'crooked politics' would be moving up to first place. 

"Nicky, sit down, we'll call your parents. I think you need to talk to them, calmly, okay? You can hear what they have to say, then you can get some of this off your chest." Sara suggested, touching his arm gently as he passed by her. 

Nick shrugged her grasp off, storming off to his bedroom, "If you want to make yourself useful, you can help me pack and drive me to the airport. I've had enough of this crap, I'm going home." 

Deciding arguments would be futile, she followed him to his room and helped him pull his suitcase down from the top of the closet. Maybe after he cooled off a bit, she'd try again. 

An hour later, he was booking himself on the next flight to Dallas. He hung up the phone, his face still stony with anger, "Let's go, the flight leaves in two hours." 

"Are you sure-" Sara began, but was interrupted by Nick tossing the suitcase on the ground with a loud thud. 

Nick turned the numbers on the combination lock and slipped his shoes on, "You said you'd help me, you can help me by driving me to the airport and saving me a fortune in parking costs." 

"You know I'd do anything for you." Sara replied, sighing unhappily. As much as she was for Nick talking this problems through with his family, she wasn't sure it was ready to happen face-to-face. Sometimes things were better left 1,000 miles away. 

"But Mom!" Lindsey whined, stomping her foot down angrily on the ground, "You promised! You said that no matter what, you'd take me!" 

Catherine stifled a yawn, trying to focus on Lindsey's tantrum of the moment, "Lins, sweetie, we can go this weekend to buy new bedroom stuff. Tonight let's stick with going out to dinner and renting a movie, just like our original plans, okay?" 

"But this weekend won't still be my birthday, and you _said_ that on my birthday, we could go get new decorations for my bedroom. You promised me! You never do what you promise!" Lindsey said angrily, "We're going out to dinner, it won't be a big deal to stop at the store too!" 

Catherine shook her head, unable to suppress her yawn this time, "Lindsey, I'm exhausted. I worked all day, when I got home I had to go get your birthday cake, I had to clean the apartment, I had to run all of my errands for the week, and I just don't feel like doing anything else. It's bad enough that I only got one hour of sleep so far today, and by the time we finish dinner and get back home, it will almost be time to go back to work." 

"You work all the time, you like your stupid job more than me," Lindsey declared, shifting gears, "That's all you do is work, work, work and then hang out with Warrick or Sara. It's like you don't even want to be around me." 

Catherine's eyes shot fully open and she pointed her finger at her daughter, "Now listen here little girl, every time I have approached you and asked if you wanted to go to lunch together, or to a movie, or shopping, or for a walk, you have told me you made plans with your friends. I know we don't see each other as much as we'd both like to, but don't you dare tell me that I put my job before you. If I didn't work, you wouldn't have anything that you have right now, and believe me little girl, you wouldn't be redecorating your bedroom for the third time this year." 

"You promised we'd go shopping!" Lindsey yelled, her voice showing just how frustrated she was, "You said no matter what, you'd make a point to take me on my birthday! I only get a birthday once a year, you know, and it's not fair to make me wait until the weekend to go shopping for my birthday present!" 

Catherine sighed angrily, her head pounding from fatigue, "I don't have the energy for this. If we finish dinner with enough time to go shopping, we can stop by and you can pick up a few things, but I am not going all around the city tonight to find everything you want. That, my dear, can wait until this weekend when we've got a little more time." 

"Thanks Mom! You're the greatest!" Lindsey exclaimed, throwing her arms around Catherine and kissing her on the cheek, "I love you!" 

"Yeah, yeah, I love you too, hon. Go get ready, Warrick will be back any minute and then we've got to go." 

Catherine watched Lindsey rush off to her room, a blonde bundle of energy, and wondered if it was possible she had that much energy at that age. Or even 5 years ago. She wasn't old, by any means, but more and more as the months went by, she was able to feel her body slowly aging. And now, her baby was going to be 12 years old. She just couldn't believe how fast time had passed her by. If anyone had old her 12 years ago that she'd be where she was today, she would have laughed. So much had changed, continued to change, that some days it felt like life was whizzing on past her, leaving her stranded in the dust it left behind. 

She yawned again, unable to focus on the school papers she was supposed to be signing for her daughter, and decided to rest her head on the table for a few moments. 5 minutes would be all she'd need to refresh her for the evening, and with any luck, work would be slow and she'd be able to duck out early. 

Half an hour later, Lindsey was shaking her shoulder roughly, "Mom, wake up, it's time to go. Warrick's home." 

"What?" Catherine asked, sitting up and looking around, still disoriented from sleep. "Oh, right. Give me a second, I'll meet you in the car." 

Lindsey grabbed her purse and cell phone (a present from Nick), and swatted Warrick on the arm, "Race you downstairs. Winner gets to drive." 

"I guess I better hurry then." Warrick countered, sprinting after her, their laughter echoing down the hall. 

Catherine picked up her own purse, fighting off the exhaustion that had a relentless hold on her body, and casually walked down the hall after them, slow enough to where they weren't visible any longer, but Lindsey's shrieks of laughter were still audible. 

By the time she made it to the car, Warrick was standing with the keys held over Lindsey's head, a relaxed smile on his face, "Come on, Lins, get them if you want to drive." 

"I don't care what the bet was, no one under the age of 16 is driving this car," Catherine said in a warning voice as Lindsey jumped high enough to catch the keys, "The closest thing you're going to come to driving anytime soon will be on a video game." 

Lindsey's eyes lit up mischievously, "Does that mean I can get a Playstation? With some games?" 

Catherine had opened her mouth to tell Lindsey no, that she was getting bedroom decorations for her birthday and that was expensive enough, when Warrick shrugged, "Why not? Everyone needs video games, right Cath?" 

"And by everyone, you mean yourself, right?" Catherine asked, slightly ticked for having Warrick agree without consulting her, but forcing herself to remain calm. If Warrick was going to be in Lindsey's life as a parental figure, he had a right to make a few decisions. She just wished he'd start with what to cook for dinner, instead of 200 dollar toys. 

She leaned her head against the window, her body sore and tired, as she tried to block out the sounds of Warrick and Lindsey arguing over which games were "cool" and which ones they would play each other at. She tried to keep a running total of costs in her mind, but after the 5th game the agreed on, she figured it was a waste of time. It was definitely a good thing that payday was at the beginning of the next week, otherwise they may have to go without food to pay for this new video game addiction. 

It hadn't been as bad as she thought it would be, living with Warrick. They had made their own little family with their own set of rules, and things had been pretty smooth so far. For the length of time she and Lindsey had been alone, and how long it took for them to adjust, it wasn't nearly as difficult to adjust to having Warrick constantly around. Looking back at all of her big decisions, other than not aborting Lindsey when she found out she was pregnant, Warrick was probably the single-most best decision she had ever made. 

_TBC if I get any sort of response..._


	3. Chapter Three

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, not mine, not mine.

**Author's Notes:** I tried to get everything to make sense for this chapter. I don't know how successful turned out to be, but I guess I'll let you judge that. Any mistakes made are directly related to a lack of sleep, I'm running on empty here. To make it worse, I'm about to get bumped up to 12 hour shifts (excluding the O/T we always end up doing) so if I don't sound coherent, it's probably because I'm not.

_Jenny_

**Three:**

"If it's okay with you, I'm just going to head home, I'm exhausted." Catherine said through a yawn as she closed the file for the case she had been working on, "Warrick's going to meet with the victim's wife, Brass is working on tracking down bank statements and phone records, and there's nothing else I can do right now that I can't do tonight."

Grissom nodded, taking the folder from her, "Sure, we've got a couple hours left, but it's been a slow night. Get some rest, you look like death warmed over. I'll send Warrick home in one piece, I promise."

"You better." Catherine retorted with a smile, standing and stretching, "See you this evening."

"You too, be careful."

Catherine walked through the lab, stopping by the AV lab, where Warrick was trying to adjust some photos to get a better view of the camera angle, "Sweetie, I'm going home."

"Already? We've still got 4 hours left." Warrick questioned, his eyes warm with concern, "Are you alright?"

Catherine nodded, yawning once more, "Just sleepy. Wake me when you get home, and maybe we'll dress up and do that thing you like to do."

"With the red nightie?" Warrick asked, his image analysis forgotten as his lover gained his full attention, "And the shoes?"

Catherine leaned forward to kiss his cheek, moving to his earlobe and nibbling it softly, her hand caressing the back of his head gently, "Anything you want, baby. Hurry home."

"Believe me, being late will not be an issue." Warrick growled as Catherine slid her fingertips down his arm gently and made her way to the door, "Love you."

"Love you too." Catherine said softly with a smile, shutting the door behind her.

The drive home was peaceful and quiet, which usually soothed Catherine and helped her unwind before she got home, but tonight it only brought her closer to falling asleep behind the wheel. She had never been quite so relieved to pull into her apartment complex, and suddenly she was grateful they had opted for the first floor apartment, she wasn't sure she would be able to make it upstairs.

After relieving the babysitter, she walked past Lindsey's room, cracking the door open enough to see her daughter was asleep, then sleepily walked into her bedroom. She stripped off her clothes and pulled on one of Warrick's t-shirts, falling onto the bed and drifting to sleep without even unmaking the bed. Covers could wait until Warrick got home and forced her to sleep 'right' in the bed.

* * *

Sara stretched out on her sofa, laying in her right side as she mindlessly flipped through the channels on tv. Grissom had tried to call her into work earlier that evening, saying Nick had called in (which she already knew) and he would be short-handed unless she or Greg came in. She had refused, not in the mood to do anything other than mope, and she assumed he had called in Greg.

She had come home from the airport only to find two dozen red roses sitting on her doorstep, a card inside reading 'I was wrong, I spoke before I thought, and I don't blame you for being mad at me. I'm a real jackass sometimes, but I hate when we fight. Call me. Love-Greg'.

She had put the roses on her kitchen table in an attempt to brighten up the dark room, and had tossed the card in a box of keepsakes she had kept from all of her and Greg's 'dates'. She knew it was a very 'high school' thing to do, but she always reminded herself that Greg may be the one (just as Hank had, and Jared from San Fran, and Patrick from Harvard, and even Danton from high school) and if he turned out to be the man she married and spent her life with, she'd want momentos to show to their children.

Sappy? Yes. Lame? Definitely, but it was one silly habit she started with her first boyfriend at the age of 15 that she hadn't been able to stop, nor really wanted to. One day, it would pay off, and until then, it reminded her of the good times she had shared with people close to her.

She was still upset about her fight with Greg, she couldn't deny it if she tried, but she was also tense and worried about Nick going to confront his parents. Combined, it created a knot of anxiety in the pit of her stomach, one that a 6-pack of _Coors Light_ and a pint of _Half Baked_ ice cream hadn't been able to cure, even after she tried both out with reruns of various _CourtTV_ detective shows.

Now, she was flipping through infomercials and music videos, trying to find something (besides the _Flip'n'Grip_, which actually looked pretty neat) to keep her attention long enough to be a distraction.

Somewhere around 5 am, she finally fell asleep while watching a rerun of _I love the 80's_ and groaning at some of thing "in" things from that era, ice cream still in hand.

* * *

Nick laid in his old bedroom, which hadn't changed a bit since he was 17 years old. Outdated rock posters decorated one wall, mixed in with football posters and sports memorabilia. On another, a corkboard filled with high school pictures and memories of his younger years. His dresser was pushed up against the same wall, books and college brochures still where he had left them so many years ago. It made him a little leery of sleeping in his old bed, even though his mother had insisted she had washed the sheets since his high school glory days.

He rolled onto his stomach and lifted the edge of his mattress, chuckling slightly when he saw his dirty magazines were will there, hidden inside of the box spring. He pulled them out, walking to his suitcase and slipping them in as a hand-me-down gift for Greg. Those magazines were probably about as old as the lab tech-turned-csi was, they had been given to him by his older brother when he outgrew them (or got a better stash).

His parents had asked him not to bring up Jessica for the night, they'd talk about her in the morning. Instead, they visited like old times, his mother cooked his favorite meal, they filled him in on the family news, and showed him tons of pictures of Karen's baby. His brother and sisters who lived in town came to visit for dessert, each expressing their joy to see him, and relief that he was watching Jessica, in their own way.

Steven, the oldest, had given him a firm hug, telling him that he was proud of his baby brother for being such a grown up. Nick had wanted to slap him, as if up until now he had been playing at the park and eating at Chuckie Cheese's every night? No matter how old Nick had been, Steven had always had a way of making him feel about 4 inches tall and as dumb as a rock. Tonight had been no exception. Steven felt since he was a executive officer at some stupid law firm in Dallas, he was better than the younger CSI.

Melanie, next in line, had told Nicky that she was happy to see him (You don't come by enough to visit), that he had lost some weight (What? Don't they have barbeque in Nevada?), and expressed interest in his love life (Well, you aren't getting any younger, and unless you've got gold hidden somewhere, you better start settling for what you can get. Someone's got to carry on the Stokes' name, and it's not just up to Steven.). She carefully avoided the topic of their sister who was miserable and alone in jail at the moment, and remained bubbly and annoying the entire evening.

Nicole had given him a huge hug and told him how proud she was for him to stick up for Jess and be something stable in her life when she needed him. He had told her that he was his responsibility, since no one else wanted to stand up for her, and Nicole had been the only Stokes sibling to look sympathetic and remorseful. She had promised to come by and visit, and had given him a package to bring to their sister once he returned home.

Hailey had given a huge fake smile and unfriendly hug to her brother, only to keep up appearances, but everyone knew she was against violence, no matter who had committed the crime, no matter what the reasons were. No crime committed out of anger was justified or forgivable, and she made it clear that she no longer considered Jessica part of the family, while encouraging the rest to do so also.

Laying in his room, enjoying the silence, Nick realized why he had moved away to begin with. If he had stayed, he may have killed someone as well, but it definitely would _not_ have been an in-law, it would have been one of their own.

Tomorrow was coming up too quickly, and as eager as he had been to confront his parents and family about their lack of support, the closer the time came, the more he started to dread the whole ordeal. He knew it would be just another sleepless night to add on to the list, he would be too worked up to fall asleep, and if he did manage to get some rest, he'd probably be plagued with nightmares.

After all, wasn't his current life just one big nightmare?

* * *

Warrick entered his bedroom, stretching as he unbuttoned his shirt and unfastened his belt. Catherine still laid sprawled across the bed, face down, her chest slowly rising in and out, oblivious to the other person in the room. Changing into the shorts he wore every night to bed, he nudged her gently, "Cath? Baby, wake up."

"Go away." Catherine mumbled, barely moving, "I'm sleeping."

Warrick ran his fingers lightly up her back, "Cath, it's time to get under the covers, you'll freeze to death on top of them."

"I'm fine." Catherine mumbled in response, batting his hand away.

Warrick brushed the hair from her face, "Well, I'll freeze. You can go back to sleep in a minute, okay? I'll even let you slide on the red nightie for tonight."

"Oh, alright." Catherine moaned, sitting up and rubbing her eyes tiredly as he pulled back the sheet and comforter, motioning for her to get under. They snuggled close together, her back against his chest with his arm draped over her side, her blonde hair slightly tickling as nose and giving his senses the strong scent of strawberry from her shampoo.

"God, I love you so much. I look forward to you being here every morning." Warrick moaned, letting the hand that was around her waist roam slightly down her leg, "I never knew how much I'd like having someone sharing my bed every night."

Catherine smiled, slowly waking up, "I love being here with you too. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, romantically speaking. Why didn't we do this sooner?"

"That's the question of the year, Cath, baby." Warrick murmured, bringing his hand to rest again at her waist, "I miss doing other things with you...besides just sleeping."

Catherine rolled her eyes sleepily, "While Lindsey's gone, we will, okay? It's only been two days."

"Two days too many." Warrick moaned, squeezing her gently, "Goodnight."

"Night." Catherine yawned, closing her eyes and letting herself give back in to the darkness that had been calling her name.

The next time she awoke, the clock said 10:25 am, and the first thing she realized was that whatever she had eaten for dinner, at the moment she didn't care to remember, was about to make a return appearance. Pressing a hand to her mouth, she quietly, yet quickly, made her way to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her and falling to her knees in front of the toilet, her body already sore and drenched with sweat.

Warrick felt the bed shift when she laid back down 15 minutes later, her body trembling slightly, even more tired now than she had been during shift. "You okay?" He asked worriedly, "You need anything?"

Catherine moaned in response, curling into a ball and shaking her head tiredly, "I think I caught a virus or something, I'll be okay."

"You didn't sound okay." Warrick commented, "You're shaking, Cath."

Catherine pulled the covers around her tighter, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep and enjoy dreamland, "It's cold in the rest of the apartment. I'm tired, I'm going back to sleep."

"I can take you to the doctor, if you-" Warrick started to suggest, but stopped when Catherine rolled over to give him a hard glare. "Okay, okay I give. I know when not to fight, believe it or not."

Catherine gave him a tired half-smile and moved over so she could be close to him once again, inhaling deeply the scent of his aftershave. Just his presence was enough to calm her down, and although she was glad for the real thing, she had been known to sleep on his pillows when he didn't come home after shift, working on a case or something, just because his scent calmed her enough to lull her to sleep. Of course, the added bonus of a gentle back massage made everything a lot more sensual and sweet when he was there.

Warrick wrapped an arm around Catherine, happy to be in this relationship. He had been in relationships before, but never one with this much responsibility, this much commitment. He had been scared at first, but after getting used to the routine with Catherine and Lindsey, he couldn't imagine life being any different.

* * *

Greg walked in to Sara's apartment, quietly shutting the door behind him. He was relieved to see the roses sitting on the table, which meant she hadn't thrown them out, and wasn't too surprised to see the TV on, the volume turned down low, set on _VH-1_. He turned the TV off, picking up the empty beer cans and ice cream accessories from the coffee table, as well as the ice cream container that had fallen to the floor at some point during the night.

He had been upset earlier, and he knew he had crossed a line. He had been hoping Sara would still be awake, although if she would have been, it would have meant he had made her so angry that she couldn't calm down enough to sleep, which would have probably made problems worse. He had been thinking about her all night at work, so much to where Grissom had practically forced him to leave an hour early just so he'd stop moping. He couldn't say he was disappointed, he practically ran out of the lab and drove as fast as he could back to Sara's apartment, eager to just see her, even if it was in sleep.

Once he was sure the living room was tidy, he crouched down and lifted his sleeping girlfriend into his arm, soothingly whispering for her to go back to sleep once she started to stir. He laid her in bed, covering her with her blanket, then pulled off his clothes, rummaging through a drawer until he found a pair of sweat pants he had left at her apartment to change in. Slipping them on, he crawled in bed next to Sara, smiling as she curled to face him, their hands intertwining in the process. Hopefully, just hopefully, she wouldn't start yelling when she woke up.

With one hand holding hers, the other wrapped around her waist to pull her closer, Greg let his eyes close and fell asleep alongside of her, knowing there was no place he'd rather be. He may have to fight to get her to talk to him once they were both awake, but he'd get the words out to apologize, and they'd move on. That's what friends did, and above all else, they were still best friends. Best friends who date, as Sara categorized it. Maybe, just maybe, if he could get his gigantic foot out of his mouth once and awhile, they'd be _Best friends who date and fool around a bit_. But, like he had always been told, 'Good things come to those who wait'. And he wasn't going anywhere.

_TBC_


	4. Chapter Four

**Disclaimer:** Still not mine. Still hoping, though...

**Author's Notes:** This is not how I wanted this to turn out...stupid characters writing themselves. Sheesh...Anyway, it's turning in an interesting direction...at least, I think so, hope you do too.

On a side note, did you ever realize how much Scooby Doo and CSI are alike? I mean, they both solve crimes (well, crimes and mysteries), we've got some smart geeky one, we've got a goofy one, a serious one, a pretty one...okay, maybe not...my daughter's obsessed with Scooby Doo, and your mind starts to wander after six hours of Mystery Inc. At least, it wanders until you realize your child has stopped eating the Graham Cracker version of "Scooby Snacks" and has now gone for the Milk-Bone Dog Treats (and, disgustingly enough, likes the dog ones better).

Please let me know if you're still reading...

_Jenny_

**Four:**

Greg strummed his fingers anxiously against the table, watching the door intently, waiting on Sara to arrive for assignments. It wasn't like her to be late, and while they still had 15 minutes before shift started, she was usually present and ready to go by now. He hoped she wasn't still angry with him, actually, he had been constantly praying that she wasn't still angry with him since he awoke earlier that evening.

She had already gotten up, showered, dressed, and left her apartment by the time he had stirred. He really couldn't blame her for still being upset, he had overreacted and behaved like a huge jerk, but just because he understood didn't mean he had to be happy about it.

He had been looking forward to at least talking to her, getting a chance to apologize and begging for her forgiveness, but all he got was a note on the door saying she had gone out jogging and would probably take a shower and change once she got to work. She had signed her name with just 'Sara', instead of the cute 'XOXO Sara' that she normally scrawled messily on the bottom of her notes to him.

He couldn't help but be relieved that she hadn't kicked him out of her apartment the moment she woke up, but then again, he knew she wasn't that mean, she'd let him know she was still angry in her own unique way.

Therefore, he had spent the last several hours trying to think of a way to make it up to her, obviously the flowers weren't enough, but had been unable to think of anything that wouldn't be cheesy or embarrassing. After it was clear she wasn't coming home, as her note had indicated, he had hurried home and dressed, hoping to make it to work early enough to talk to her alone, before the others showed up for shift.

Come to think of it, Warrick and Catherine were usually here at least a half hour early, their way of setting their minds to 'work' instead of 'relationship', and Nick was also never one to wait until the last minute to show up. Suddenly, Greg felt like he had missed a memo or something, was he really the only one who had shown up so far when work was supposed to start in 15 minutes? He glanced at the clock again, and shrugged, 10 minutes. Had his clocks been wrong? Were they all here an hour before him and had already been sent out on cases? Did they suddenly meet in Grissom's office before shift?

He was going to walk toward Grissom's office to check when Sara walked in, obviously surprised to see Greg sitting at the table alone. "Where is everybody?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, "Did Grissom already sent Cath and Warrick out?"

Greg shook his head, "Nope, so far it's just me and you. Catherine and Warrick are probably still making out in their car, and Nick hasn't graced us with his presence yet."

"Nick went back to Texas for awhile," Sara corrected, "And Cath and Warrick aren't in the parking lot, I just came from out there."

Sara walked to the coffeepot and poured the (thankfully) steaming liquid into a white styrofoam cup, grabbing the container of sugar and pouring a generous amount into her cup, along with a dash of cream, "I am so tired. I'm getting out of shape, we need to start running more. When it comes time for the desert relay again, we're going to be the biggest disappointment for the team."

"I find it hard to believe you could ever be out of shape." Greg commented, reaching over and pulling out a chair for her, "Can we talk for a few minutes, before the others get here?"

Sara nodded, avoiding his eyes as she sat down, instead staring at the brown liquid in her cup, inhaling the pleasant aroma of the coffee. If the caffeine didn't wake her up, this conversation was likely to. She could feel Greg's eyes on her, silently urging her to look at him, but she refused to give in. If she looked at him, she would see the worry and sadness in his beautiful eyes, and she'd find it impossible to stay angry with him. And at the moment, she really wanted to be angry with him. Didn't she deserve it, after the hurtful words he had told her? After the obvious lack of trust he had for her?

Greg put his hand over hers, squeezing it gently and whispering, "Please look at me, Sara. I'm so sorry I acted like I did, that I said what I said. I know I was wrong, but when it comes to you, I am such an idiot. I say stupid things, I do stupid things, I make a complete fool out of myself and do things that any rational person would avoid doing. I was jealous, and I know I shouldn't be, but I'm so scared of losing you that I unintentionally push you away sometimes. I'm such a jerk, but I'm a jerk who loves you, okay Sara? Please, talk to me, tell me what I can do to make this up to you."

"You're not a jerk." Sara whispered, rolling her eyes and meeting his, "You're just a normal _guy_. It's natural for you to stick your foot in your mouth and your head up your ass, because that's just what guys do. That's what guys have been doing for centuries," She sighed, "But just because I know that doesn't mean that I have to like it. Nick is my friend, Greg, and I was serious when I said that you can't control who I'm friends with. If I want to hang out with the Chipendale dancers every night for a month, you can't stop me. I won't be in that kind of relationship, okay?"

Greg nodded, looking down and releasing her hand from his grasp, "I know I can't, no one can control you Sara, and no one should. I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have jumped all over you like I did."

"You don't have to tell me!" Sara exclaimed, patting his hand reassuringly, "If I would have known my relationship with Nick was bothering you this badly, I would have tried to compromise with you. I just don't like seeing anyone I love, whether romantically or platonically, hurting and Nick's going through a lot right now. But Greg, you have to realize that I want you! If I didn't, we wouldn't be here right now."

Greg was going to reply when Grissom walked in, causing both younger CSIs to quiet instantly, regaining their composure and distance automatically. Grissom laid his folder down on the table, looking around the room curiously, "Where are Warrick and Catherine?"

Sara and Greg looked at each other, then towards Grissom, Sara replying, "They haven't shown up yet. Haven't they called?"

"No, but they could be stuck in traffic, we'll give them a few more minutes to join us. It's been a slow night so far, I've got a decomp and a breaking and entering. First come, first serve. What do you guys want?"

Greg and Sara exchanged a look of distaste, before Sara sighed and responded, "B&E, save the decomp for Warrick and Catherine."

"Are you handing out assignments without us?" Catherine asked, rushing into the room, Warrick on her heels, "Damn Gil, we come in 5 minutes late and we've already missed everything?"

Grissom gave both Catherine and Warrick a stern look, "I had no way of knowing when you would show up, I had to get the rest of the shift started."

Catherine rolled her eyes at Sara, who gave a big smile, kicking her slightly under the table with a 'be nice' look on her face. Warrick walked to the coffeepot and poured himself a cup, his eyes on Grissom, while Greg moped about having a B&E for the night.

"As I was saying, it's been a slow night. Sara and Greg, B&E, have fun. Catherine and Warrick, decomp-floater, bring an extra set of clothes." Grissom said brightly, handing each a slip of paper and turning to exit the room. As an afterthought, he turned his attention back to the four CSIs, "Everyone keep their cell phones and pagers close by, in case something-for lack of a better word- important comes up."

Catherine's face had paled at the word "decomp" and further at the word "floater". The nausea she had finally gotten rid of just a mere two hours earlier was starting to trickle back rapidly. She gave herself a mental shake, reminding herself that this was her job, and since it was her job, she was not allowed to be a 'girl' when it came to the repulsive situations she faced daily at her job.

The entire ride there, all she could think about was how glad she was she hadn't eaten anything for dinner, because a decomp was bad enough, but a decomp that had been rotting in water? Tons worse. She shuddered slightly and turned to Warrick, "You know he gave this to us just because we were late, right?"

"At least it will be more interesting than a B&E." Warrick said with a half smile, "I know it doesn't make it any better, but neither case was one I'd want to fight for."

Catherine nodded, leaning her forehead against the window and shutting her eyes. She was still so tired. Lately her energy had been coming in short, infrequent bursts, often leaving her more tired than she had been before getting the much needed energy. Her fatigue, along with the soothing motions of the car, lulled her to sleep 10 minutes after Warrick started driving.

When they arrived, Warrick was reluctant to wake up his sleeping girlfriend, although he knew he had to. He could see she was exhausted, and he hadn't said anything to her, but he was worried about her. She had been so tired lately, not to mention snippy. Things that he or Lindsey did that wouldn't normally bother her had sent her into a fit of anger or got them the silent treatment for the night.

He wasn't worried about her being pregnant, she was on Depo shots, but he was worried that something was wrong with her. And even though she never said anything to him, he could tell she wasn't feeling well all day. He just hoped it was a virus or something that would go away quickly, so they could have peace restored throughout the apartment. The last thing they needed right now was to be at each other's throats all the time, especially with Lindsey involved. She had grown up with her parents fighting, and now that Warrick was stepping in as a paternal figure, he didn't want her to have any memories of him and Catherine not getting along.

Warrick gently shook her shoulder, whispering softly, "Cath, baby, we're here."

"Go away." Catherine moaned sleepily, swatting at his hand.

"Catherine, sweetie, it's time to work." Warrick said a little louder, shaking her a little harder.

Catherine's eyes slowly opened, and she yawned sleepily, "We're there?"

"Yep, it's time to catch some bad guys." Warrick said with a smile, opening the door and grabbing his kit. He was getting Catherine's out and handing it to her when Brass walked up, notepad in hand.

"What do we have?" Warrick asked, eyeing the cabin they parked in front of wearily. It was a nice looking cabin, or, Warrick was sure it would be once it was cleaned up. By looking at the outside, Warrick could assume it was a vacation home for one of Vegas's more financially stable families. It wasn't too uncommon for someone living in the city to have a cabin at Lake Mead.

Brass pointed to the distraught older couple standing near a few uniformed officers in the front of the cabin, "Martin and Jane Anders use this cabin as their "home away from home" off and on throughout the year. They arrived tonight and were planning on staying for two weeks while on vacation. Mrs. Anders was going to unpack while Mr. Anders set up the Jacuzzi. When he pulled off the cover, however, he found a body. The Anders hadn't used this cabin in three months, which is when they drained the Jacuzzi, and the last time they were here, they had no visitors."

"So a body was in the sealed Jacuzzi for up to three months? This is going to be..." Catherine began, her face describing the word she was trying to come up with.

Brass smirked, "Just go ahead and say it, disgusting. Yes, it is. Needless to say, the Anders will not be using that Jacuzzi ever again."

"How are we even going to bring the remains in?" Warrick asked Catherine, who was wearily eyeing the porch which would lead to the back deck and their body.

Catherine shook her head, "I don't know, and as far as I'm concerned, that's David's problem. Let's see what we can find here..."

* * *

Sara threw the file down on Grissom's desk, a red stamp marking 'Complete' staring bolding at him. Looking at the clock, he nodded with a smile, "In half a shift, nice work."

"His prints were all over the place, He was in the system already for burglary charges, and he's a store employee, which gave him access to the codes he used to rob the safe. Open and shut case, the moment he was brought in, he confessed to everything." Sara said with a bored sigh, "Got anything for Greg and I to work on now?"

Grissom shook his head, "Not right now, why don't you and Greg go grab a bite to eat, I'll page you if something comes in. If we don't have anything by the time you've enjoyed a leisurely meal, you two can start reviewing cold cases."

"Highlight of my week." Sara replied dryly, walking out of Grissom's office and grabbing Greg in the hallway, "Let's go get something to eat, than we can finish that talk from earlier."

"Only if you let me buy." Greg said, falling in step beside her.

Sara shrugged, a smile on her normally tense face, "Well, if you're going to twist my arm, how can I refuse?"

"Resistance is useless." Greg said, his eyes twinkling with happiness and relief. If she was going to eat with him, and was willing to talk, she obviously wasn't angry anymore. Not being angry meant that they could discuss their problems without screaming, which meant maybe if he made his move to go a little further than flirting and simple kissing she wouldn't protest.

If they only knew that leaving the lab would be the worst decision they had made in months.

* * *

Nick paced around the living room of his parent's house like a caged animal, waiting to pounce on the first thing that came in it's path. He hoped it would be his sister, Hailey, because he had a few lessons he wanted to teach her about loyalty to your blood.

Of course, Hailey hadn't shown up, like the traitor she was. Nicole had stopped by briefly on her way to work to give Nick a package to bring to Jessica, along with a letter (which from the width of the envelope must be over twenty pages) to give to their sister. Melanie and Steven were expected later that afternoon, and Karen was even supposed to come by that evening for dinner. So, for now, it was just Nick and his parents. And as angry as he was with everyone else, he knew their actions stemmed from the two adults sitting in front of him.

"Mom, Dad, you raised me to respect you, your decisions, your morals, your wishes. Everything I learned, everything I believe, it all came from the two of you." Nick began, his hands trembling with emotion. "And I do respect you, I would trust you with my life, I love both of you very much."

He looked at his parents, who remained silent, urging them to continue silently with their eyes. He took a deep breath, "You raised me to look out for my sisters and brother, to protect them. You taught each one of us that if it meant we had to lay our life down for the others, it should be done, no questions asked. Keeping that in mind, you also taught us to be honest, to be dependable, to have a strong set of morals and stick to them. Dad, you told me that doing the right thing would always mean I had a home to come home to, that if I was honest and open with you guys, then you'd help me, no questions asked."

He wiped a few tears that had managed to escape from his eyes, his voice shaking, "I did the best I could. Jessie called to tell me she murdered someone and covered it up. What was I supposed to do? At the time I didn't know the details of this twisted family coverup operation going on, at the time I didn't know you two were handling it, at the time all I knew was that my sister was in trouble, my lab was handling it, and if I know Greg and Sara like I know that I do, they'd figure it out eventually. I did the one thing I knew would help her out, legally and on the stand, I told her to confess before they figured it out, to make a deal with the DA, to cooperate fully, anything to keep her away from the death penalty."

His mother was the first one to try and speak, but Nick cut her off, his voice rising as he furiously shook his head, his face red with anger and unshed tears, pent up emotions and frustration coming to the surface as he shouted, "Maybe if someone would have told me what was going on, maybe if Jess thought your plan would work, maybe if I would have done things differently, we wouldn't be here right now! But that night, when she called, I took control and I tried to protect her. I'm sorry that you don't agree with how I handled it, and I'm sorry that I somehow disappointed you, but you can't shut Jessica and I off from the family, it's just not fair! I did what you taught me to do, Mom, Dad, I protected her the best way I knew how! And I know you probably don't believe this, but I'd give my life for her, I'd take her place if I could, hell, I would have confessed if I could have, but I couldn't. And the two of you, working with the law, you guys know that my hands were tied on this!"

Nick sank to the floor, burying his head in his hands, his anger draining, "We did the best we could by you, all of us. Even Hailey, when she'd turn her back on us, she stands behind her beliefs, she won't budge no matter who's on the other side. Nicole is the most loyal one of us all. Karen was loyal to Travis, she stayed with him while he beat her senseless, because she was taught that marriage is the most sacred event in a person's life, that once you marry someone, you are bound to them, no matter what kind of monster they become. And Jessica, she was just protecting Karen! And I was protecting Jessie, and if you can't see that, then I have just lost all the respect I held for you."

The last sentence came out in a whisper, and Nick's mother dropped to the floor beside her son, pulling him into a tight embrace. After a few seconds of resisting and pushing her away, he went limp, accepting the comfort he hadn't received in so long. She held him close, whispering soothingly, "Nicky, you have this totally wrong. I know you did what you had to do, and I know you were just looking out for Jess. We aren't punishing either of you for doing the right thing, we never would...it's just..."

"Nicholas, do you have any idea how hard it is for us to imagine our precious little girl murdering someone? How hard it is for two respectable citizens like your mother and I, in our position, to come to terms with the fact that we tried to cover up a homicide? How are we going to face Jessica in prison, when we were just as guilty as she was and we're free to go on with our lives? Do you know how sickened and guilty that makes us feel? How ashamed?"

Nick looked up at his father, his body still trembling, "You should be ashamed, but not for those reasons, you should be ashamed because you abandoned your daughter when she needed you the most. She looks like hell, she's miserable, she's depressed, and she's looking at spending the rest of her life like that. It's not about how you think and about how you feel, it's about Jessie, who's spending her 34th birthday in prison, and will spend every other one in there until she dies."

He wasn't able to hold his emotions in any longer, and began to loudly sob, "I can't do it anymore, I can't be the only one supporting her, I just can't! I want to, I want to visit her every day and keep her spirits up, tell her she's going to go home soon, but I just can't! I can't tell her it's going to be okay, that she will go home, because I know she won't. I can't watch her beauty, her spirit, her passion...it's killing me. Mom, Dad, if I don't get help, you're going to lose both of us."

_TBC_


	5. Chapter Five

_Disclaimer:_ Same as always.

_Author's Notes:_ Sorry this took awhile for me to get out, and for those who appreciate the Nick and Catherine/Warrick storylines, I apologize in advance. The Greg/Sara bit took up more time to write than I thought it would, and as a result, the others are mostly pushed off until the next chapter. Also, pertaining to the Nick/Sara/Greg bit, I know a lot of people didn't want Greg and Sara to be paired, but that's how it's going to be for now. I don't know what's going to happen in the end, since my storyline and goals for this are constantly changing. Hope you'll stick with me anyway though.

I am planning on having another chapter up by weekend, although I can't swear to it. We lost three people in my office this week, and the remainder of us are working tons of O/T to make up for it. Good for my paycheck, bad for my spare time.

This one goes to Emmithar, because she inspired me with her own wonderful stories, giving me the desire to write when I was contemplating giving up on this story. You're the best, girl.

_Jenny_

**Five:**

Grissom sat in his office, opera music playing quietly as he reviewed performance review paperwork for each of his employees. They had done evaluations a few weeks prior, but with a new sheriff always came new paperwork, so in addition to a basic yearly review, they were now required to do an in-depth analysis of each CSI.

In the expandable brown folder the sheriff had sent over sat 7 manilla folders, labeled 'Brown, Warrick', 'Sanders, Greg', 'Sidle, Sara', 'Stokes, Nicholas', 'Willows, Catherine', 'Shift Three-Las Vegas Crime Lab', and 'Las Vegas, Nevada Crime Lab Stats'.

Each of his employee's folders contained a data sheet with an average of total cases worked, total cases solved, total cases unsolved, total cases open, and total incidents since employment. Each folder also contained a write up of any 'incident', including work-related injuries, extended leave of absences, reprimands, and various other 'out of the norm' disturbances. Every employee evaluation sheet was clipped to the other side of the folder, with a graph showing rates of change for each worker.

The folder pertaining to the Graveyard Shift was a basic recap, with statistics on the entire shift, any disturbances they've had over the last year, their overall performance as a group. The last folder had the entire crime lab's statistics, with a chart to compare graveyard's shift to day and swing shifts.

As a whole, the project was giving him a migraine. He had excellent workers with excellent solve rates. Two of his CSI's had the highest solve rates in the lab, Warrick and Sara, and Catherine was tied for third place with a long-time veteran of days. They had very little case-related accidents, although Sara and Catherine's car accident had a 17 page report, as well as the shooting several months back involving Sara, Greg, and a murder suspect, which had a 25 page report.

Grissom hated when people disrespected his CSI's. He knew they all worked hard to accomplish the high solve rates they had achieved, and with the occasional accident (which was less than most labs in the country) he felt they were all working hard and doing their jobs well. Of course, the new sheriff didn't know his employees as well as Grissom did, even as well as the sheriff's in the past had known them. To the new sheriff, they were a liability. While Grissom definitely didn't agree, he could see how their major incidents could implicate those accusations.

If there was one thing Grissom hated about being a supervisor, it was the paperwork. Meetings were a close second, followed closely by undeserved discipline. All of these paled in comparison to politics, though, which was exactly what this project amounted to. He was supposed to review these files, fill out a questionnaire on each employee with appropriate training/action/discipline for any problem areas he found and get them to sign a paper agreeing that what he determined was true and appropriate. Early next week all supervisors were going to have a meeting to discuss their findings, and by the end of next week, a meeting with all supervisors and all CSI's would be held to address common problems with the lab as a whole. Ultimately, he knew the goal of this project was to eliminate a few CSI's from the budget, leaving room for either the sheriff to bring in some of his own people or for the sheriff to spend money elsewhere. He was not looking forward to this project in the least, and it seemed like the longer he put it off, the worse it seemed to be when he next looked at it.

His shift's stats were consistently high, they had the highest solve rate, the highest amount of days and hours worked, the highest number of cases worked. With those highs came highest incident rate. He knew that the few major accidents on his shift weighed a lot heavier than the more numerous, yet more minor, day and swing shift incidents. He also knew this was going to come into play during their meeting, and he was totally unprepared about how to defend himself on it. Nothing that had happened was his fault. Catherine and Sara's car accident? Unpreventable. The hotel shooting? Sara and Greg both followed protocol for that type of situation.

Then there was the issue of Catherine and Warrick's living arrangements. Thinking about that caused Grissom's migraine to hit him full force. He was relieved when the buzzing of his cell phone pulled him away from his mountain of paperwork and responsibility, "Grissom."

"Gil, it's Jim. I just got a call on a hit-and-run right off the strip, possible fatality. Can you spare someone?"

Grissom sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose tiredly, "Sure, I'll get Sara and Greg out there."

"Great, I sent a couple of uniforms out there as well, I'm still tied up with Cath and Warrick at this decomp." Brass replied, "Don't work too hard."

"Very funny." Grissom said, his voice flat, "Thanks for the call."

He hung up, tiredly rubbing his eyes and pressing the speed dial number that would connect him to Sara's cell.

* * *

Warrick watched Catherine paled considerably, her hand rising shakily to her mouth as she turned away from the Jacuzzi and quietly moaned. The body, or, what was left of the body, had been removed, and all that was left was the rotting liquid the body had been stewing in. He had been proud of her so far, she had told him more than once since they had been there that she was going to be sick, but had yet to actually give in. Of course, at the time they were checking the lid of the Jacuzzi and the filters while David loaded the remains into a body bag for removal. Now, they had to remove the liquid and bring it back to the lab, something neither were looking forward to, especially since it required one of them getting inside of the Jacuzzi to reach the deep bottom.

He remembered her earlier queasiness and touched her arm gently, "Want to go interview the owners?"

"Please." Catherine gasped, rushing away from the Jacuzzi and back towards the Tahoe, grabbing a water bottle and taking a few sips while trying to regain her composure. She hated decomps. Once the smell entered your nostrils, it remained there for days, at least, that's how it seemed. She could now smell nothing but the putrid remains, and it wasn't helping her already queasy stomach and aching head.

She closed her eyes for a few seconds, trying to shake off the general ill feeling that she was slowly becoming used to, and reopened them a few moments later to see that it hadn't made any difference. Nothing had, lately. Suddenly, the last thing she wanted to do was talk to the Anders about the body in their Jacuzzi, she wanted to do nothing more than go home and go to bed.

The ringing of her cell phone got her attention, and she answered it tiredly, "Willows."

"_Catherine, it's me. We got a call on a hit-and-run, but I don't have anyone to work it. How are you and Warrick doing on your decomp?"_

Catherine sighed, "Warrick's collecting the liquid from the Jacuzzi and I'm about to talk to the owners of the cabin, then we're going to be done here. We're awhile out, though, aren't Sara and Greg finished with their B&E by now?"

"_They were, but I sent them on break and can't reach either of them. Start heading back, I'll have Brass bring Warrick back to the lab when he's done."_

Catherine agreed and shut her phone, relieved to be escaping this crime scene. She let Brass know she was leaving and climbed into the Tahoe, setting off for what she hoped to be a less gruesome scene.

* * *

Sara picked at her vegetarian lasagna, avoiding eye contact with Greg. They had been sitting in a tense silence since arriving at the restaurant, both unsure of how to resume their previous conversation, and both unwilling to start a new one.

After a few more moments of silent deliberation on what to say, Sara said quietly, "I think we should ask Grissom for a few days of vacation so we can go away together for a weekend...not anything special, just a few days away from work, away from the city, where we can spend some quality time alone and not have to worry about any interruptions."

"That sounds great." Greg replied enthusiastically, relieved that she was starting the conversation on a positive note, "I'd love the opportunity to spend some alone time with you."

Sara nodded, taking a sip of her water and toying nervously with the napkin in her lap, "I know it's been hard for you, taking things slowly and having everything about us just, I don't know, up in the air. I'm sorry that it made you feel like I wasn't serious about _us_."

"I know you're serious about us." Greg replied softly, taking her hand into his and moving his chair closer to hers, "I'm the one who should be sorry, okay? I was jealous, and I know I don't have a reason to be, but I can't help the way I feel. You and Nick are so close, and I know I won't be able to change that, but he's such a great guy, and you're such a beautiful, intelligent, amazing woman...I'm just worried that one day you're going to wake up and wonder how the hell you ended up with a goofy smart-aleck like me. I don't want to lose you."

Sara sighed, squeezing his hand, "Pushing me away isn't the way to keep me, Greg. I'm yours, you've already won me, I know who you are, I know your bad habits, I know what I'm doing, you're stuck with me. I may not be the best at relationships, but I'm not going to just leave you hanging so I can go be with Nicky. He's my friend, Greg. Maybe at one point I wanted something more, but I'm with you. I chose to be with you. You don't have anything to be jealous of."

"I really wanted to go to the movies with you the other night," Greg said with a sheepish grin, "When I was in high school, I never went on a date to the movies. The girl I was kinda seeing would always want to go to the mall, or to the bowling alley with friends, I never really went out somewhere private...well, theaters aren't private, but somewhere dark."

Sara rolled her eyes, "In other words, you were looking forward to making out in the back of the theater?"

"That wasn't what I was getting at." Greg said, his cheeks turning pink with embarrassment, "I just get so tired of doing things as a group. When we go out to eat it's always with people from work, when we do anything it's always with other people. It's nice to have something for just the two of us, not at our apartments, where we don't have to worry about people seeing us alone together."

Sara nodded, wrapping an arm around him and leaning against him in an uncharacteristic public display of affection, "It won't be for too much longer, we're going to tell people soon. It's only a matter of time before they all figure it out anyway, Greg. I just want to make sure...I don't know..."

"I know what you mean. While we're serious, we want to be _serious_ before we let everyone know." Greg supplemented, his hand on her knee, "Sara, I really like you."

"I really like you too." Sara replied, her meal forgotten as her leg tingled from his touch, forming a slight blush on her cheeks, "Maybe we're ready for a little bit more."

Greg leaned over, his lips meeting hers and his tongue gently caressing her soft mouth, a low moan escaping his lips. Sara pulled away slightly, blushing furiously, "Greg!" She hissed softly, "Not here."

"That was the point of going to eat somewhere people at work don't normally visit." Greg pointed out, his breathing slightly heavier as his hand trailed a little farther up her skirt, "You're so beautiful."

Sara allowed their lips to briefly meet, but then pulled away again, "Greg, I can't, not here. I'm sorry."

Mistaking Greg's hurt look as one of anger, Sara pushed her chair away and threw a couple of bills on the table to pay for her meal, making her way towards the exit, Greg only a few steps behind her as she exited the restaurant.

"Sara, wait! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to push you!" Greg exclaimed, grabbing her arm, "Sara, talk to me!"

Sara shook her head, "I can't, Greg! I don't feel comfortable doing that, this, in public. You know I'm a private person, I can't just make out with you in front of everyone in the restaurant! I'm sorry, I know this is driving you crazy, but you've got to know that it makes me uncomfortable when we get to that point." She jerked her arm away angrily, fighting tears. She wasn't sure why this bothered her so badly, she really liked Greg, she wanted to be intimate with him, but something about the way it always seemed to happen made her feel so uncomfortable, leaving her wanting to hide from Greg, and the rest of the world, under the table.

"Sara, that's the problem, we are never _able_ to get to that point. I think that's the most physical contact I've had with you all month." Greg pointed out, "I don't want to be with you for sex, Sara, and I can deal with not touching you in any way you feel weird doing, but come on, we're dating Sara, let me at least kiss you."

Sara spun around to face him, her eyes wide and hardening slowly with anger, "Why is this so important to you? What does groping me in public and kissing me so, so...passionately...have to do with anything? Why can't you just want to talk to me, hang out with me, kiss me in the privacy of my own apartment? Why here? Why now?"

"Are you ashamed of me? Are you embarrassed to be seen with me? Is that the real reason we're not telling people? Do you not want to be dating me? Are you just brushing me off and hoping I'll break it off so you don't have to be the bad guy? What is it Sara?" Although he tried to seem angry, he couldn't hide the hurt in his voice, and the more his own words sank in, the closer he came to tears himself, matching the ones shining in Sara's eyes, "What is it? Why do you do this to me?"

Sara shook her head, wrapping her arms tightly around herself, "It's not that, Greg. I'm never embarrassed by you, I could never be. I like you, I want to be with you, I've told you that over and over again."

"What is it then, Sara? It seems like as time goes on I'm less of a boyfriend and more like your best friend. If you want to just be close friends, I need to know. It's not fair to lead me on, dangling the idea of romance in front of me but never letting me have it. It's wrong, Sara. I need to know where you stand."

Sara shivered, despite the warm air, and then sighed dejectedly, "I don't just want to be friends...you _are_ my best friend, though, Greg. It's hard to think about doing other things with you, even though I want to. It is just taking some time to adjust...I'm not leading you on, I swear, I really do care about you, more than any other friend I have. It's just...hard."

"Then don't think, just do it." Greg said, his voice deep with emotion as he pulled her close to him, "Just act on impulse, I know you can do it, you don't have to plan everything, you know."

Sara sighed, pulling away, "I don't just act, Greg, and you know that. I'm a thinker, I need to know that whatever I do will be the right decision. I can't do this right now, okay? After shift, we'll go back to my place and we'll hash this all out. We really should get back to the lab."

"Screw the lab, Sara!" Greg shouted, not embarrassed in the slightest as the other people on the street gave him a strange look, "For once, just let it be about us! You and me! Not Grissom, not Nick, not work, not anything else, just _us_! Damn it, Sara, just let me know where we stand, that's all I'm asking."

Sara turned to face him, tears in her eyes, "I think I'm falling in love with you, okay? I'm having all of these mixed up feelings and I can't even label them all, and I want you more than you can ever imagine! And I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop, like it always does. And since I care about you more than any other man I've dated, I know it's going to be major, and I can't take being hurt again or even imagining hurting you in any way. So _excuse me_ if I'm not being the perfect girl, but I'm scared, I'm worried, and I'm trying to protect the both of us."

She turned away again, her breathing ragged as she tried to stop the tears which were now flowing. She couldn't get into this here, her thoughts and feelings were too private to share with the strangers passing by. Panic filled her chest and she started to walk away from Greg, muttering, "I just can't do this right now."

Greg watched as she began to walk away, sadness filling his own heart, and he knew they couldn't end their conversation on these terms. If it meant they spent the rest of their shift locked in his car, yelling at each other, it would be an improvement over tense silence, and at least they'd get somewhere.

He really didn't like to make her mad, and it wasn't like he was going out of his way trying to. He wanted her to know he wasn't some horny little kid, that he just wanted a serious, intimate relationship, and although he knew she had issues with the intimacy part of the deal, he couldn't help but feel upset when she put a stop to the kisses and touching. He wasn't even angry, just sad that she didn't trust him enough, if it was even that, to let him in. He wanted to understand, so badly, but it seemed like with every step forward they took, they immediately took two giant leaps back. If he didn't care for her so much, he would have abandoned the pursuit months ago. Sara, though, was worth the wait.

He noticed that every time he sped up, so did she, and he was so focused on catching up with her that he didn't notice the blue car turning onto the road until it was almost too late. He instantly quickened his pace, calling out her name loudly as he reached her, trying to push her out of harm's way. He was just a moment too late as the brakes screeched loudly, the blue car colliding with both of them, then speeding away as they hit the pavement, each with a sickening thud.

The last thing Greg remembered as darkness clouded his vision was how eerily quiet the street was, and how unusual it was for Vegas to be quiet at any time, especially during the nighttime hours.

_TBC_


	6. Chapter Six

**Disclaimer**: Don't own them, and if somehow I've inherited them, I'd share them with all of you.

**Author's Notes**: I'm sorry if this isn't as good as you'd expect it to be, it's been a very, very rough day, although I knew if I didn't write it now, I would abandon it forever.

As many know, I work as an assistant in the ME's office, and I've always prided myself on being a strong person, physically, emotionally, in all aspects. My boss even complimented me in front of the whole staff on my resilient stomach during a decomp last week. Well, I have now stooped to the level of all of my coworkers, which I think they'll forever remind me of. Boss had to leave for a deposition, and tells me I'm to collect stomach contents and process them, look for anything unusual, run anything I do find. No problem, right? I mean, blood and guts don't bother me. Humph. I think it was the nastiest thing I have ever done. I had to beg Sam, who is the other assistant, to take over because I couldn't do it without gagging. I was so embarrassed, I wanted to die. So, of course, Sam teased me ALL day. 5:00 comes, and my lovely boss has us all stay late for our weekly team meeting (which is usually on Tuesday), where Sam told EVERYONE about what happened, and I was criticized for lack of professionalism. Which means since boss knows that's my weakness, he'll be forcing me to do it over and over again until it doesn't bother me. I hate my job. Why couldn't I have worked at Burger King?

Replies will cheer me up. I need it, trust me. Besides, I like to know if people are still reading...see threat at end of chapter...

_Jenny_

**Six:**

Catherine pulled up at her new crime scene, stifling a yawn as she pulled her kit out of her Tahoe. She was so tired, she wasn't sure she'd be able to stay alert enough to focus on any case at the moment.

Seeing Greg sitting in the back of an ambulance, however, jolted her with enough adrenaline to move to the officers and paramedics, her stomach churning at the vast amount of blood and glass on the pavement.

"Oh Catherine, thank God you're here." Greg said desperately, pulling away from the paramedic who was trying to clean a deep gash on Greg's forehead. "You've got to take me to see Sara, tell them I've fine, I've got to go."

Catherine's face paled, and she was ushered by a nearby paramedic to sit beside Greg, "Sara?"

"Cath, you've got to tell them I'm okay, we need to go see her." The desperation in his voice, along with the tears in his eyes, made Catherine's heart skip a few beats.

There's no way there could be a car accident. Not Sara and Greg, hadn't they been through enough already? And if Sara was involved, where was she now? The only logical answer was the hospital, which made Catherine's body tense with worry. A hit-and-run meant that whoever had struck them had left the scene, which ruled out the blood on the pavement being theirs. Greg's injuries, while bleeding and looking bad enough to cause concern, couldn't have contributed that much blood to the scene.

"Greg, sweetie, what happened?" Catherine asked soothingly, trying to calm Greg down enough to get clear answers from him, as well as distracting him so the paramedic sound finish cleaning and stitching Greg's wounds.

Greg's voice was clouded with emotion as he struggled to hold back his tears. He looked up at Catherine with innocent eyes, "We went out to dinner...Gris, he said we could. We were talking and we got into an argument and she started to leave. I..I followed her and we...we got into it again. And...and she started to go towards the parking garage, and...and the car, it...it came out of nowhere." His shoulders shook with sobs as his eyes met Catherine's, "I..I think it was blue, a sporty car. I..I tried to...I tried to save her Cath, I swear. I tried to save her."

"I know you did, sweetie." Catherine said soothingly, squeezing his hand tightly, "Tell me more."

"I think I called out her name," He sniffed loudly, "I probably shouldn't have. If I hadn't, she...she may have finished crossing the street. I...I know she didn't see the car, I..I wanted to make sure she didn't get hit. I, oh, Cath, I messed up. She...she slowed down and turned to me, and I..I tried to push her out of the way, but...but I wasn't fast enough."

Catherine sighed, shaking her head, "Greg, there was nothing you can do. It was an accident, you were trying to help her. It's not your fault." She winced at the same time Greg did as the paramedic began to suture his cut, and she squeezed his hands tightly, "Did you see anything else about the car?"

"It was a two-door, I think." Greg said, trying to remember, but only coming back with fuzzy details, "I was watching Sara, the car barely touched me, just enough to knock me back and make me hit my head on the sidewalk." He shuddered, his face paling slightly, "She was halfway turned to me when the car hit her. When it made impact, she fell over the hood and up against the windshield. The car swerved into the other lane and she slid off the hood and hit the pavement on the other side. She didn't lose consciousness until after she was on the ground."

Catherine closed her eyes briefly, horrible flashbacks of the car accident she and Sara had been in the previous year flashing through her mind in a rapid montage, Sara had been a fighter then, just as she obviously had been tonight. At least tonight it wasn't raining, and if her team was half as good as she knew they were, they'd be able to find some sort of reasoning for this accident.

Catherine squeezed Greg's hands again, resisting the urge to give him a hug and a big kiss on the forehead, like she did Lindsey when she was younger and hurt herself. She stood, slightly woozy but able to keep it under control, and said softly, "I'm going to see what evidence I can gather. Let the medics take care you, the sooner you cooperate, the sooner you can go see Sara."

Catherine left Greg, still quietly crying, and walked over to the taped off section of the street, pulling out her camera to take a few snapshots. She wasn't quite sure what was worse, the decomp she had been working with Warrick on, or having to work this case, knowing her best friend, other than her boyfriend, was in a hospital somewhere, unaware of her condition.

She turned to the officer, who was trying to keep onlookers to a minimum, "What do you know?"

"Witnesses confirm CSI Sanders's story that the vehicle was a dark blue car, one witness says it looked like an Eclipse, another says it resembled a Mustang. CSI Sidle was found near the westbound parking garage entrance, the paramedics tried not to disturb any evidence, but they needed to get her out of here ASAP, so I don't know what all they interfered with. CSI Sanders was thrown back on the opposite side of the street, against the curb in the eastbound lane. Witness called in the report, a Danielle Phillips. She's speaking to Officer Bono right now, I'll let you speak to her before releasing her. CSI Sidle was taken to Desert Palm, in critical condition. The 911 call indicated a fatality, but luckily it didn't turn out to be quite so serious. I have the names of the paramedics who were dispatched here, in case you need to speak with them. We've got an APB out for a dark blue sports car with a busted windshield and front end. Officer Bono has a call in to the owners of the Hotel Audubon, the owners of the parking garage, to see if their video surveillance picked up anything."

Catherine nodded grimly, turning her attention back to the scene. With a soft groan, she began to pick up pieces of glass and debris, wishing she was sitting in the waiting area of the hospital instead of processing her coworker's, no, her friend's crime scene.

With a loud curse, she grabbed her cell phone, realizing she had forgotten to inform their boss of the current situation.

"_Grissom."_

Catherine sighed sadly, "Gil, it's Catherine. I'm at the hit-and-run, and--"

"_Can I call you back? I'm in the middle of something important, and I know whatever it is, you can handle it."_

The words left Catherine's mouth before she was able to figure out a way to cushion them, "No, it can't wait. Sara and Greg were hit by a car tonight, and Sara was rushed to the hospital."

There was a brief moment of silence, and after calling Grissom's name a few times, Catherine was tempted to phone Judy in reception and have her to check on the older CSI. Finally, she got a response.

"_I'm on my way. Call Warrick and as soon as he's done at his scene, he can meet me at the hospital."_

Catherine hung up the phone and dialed Warrick, her voice shaking as the reality of the situation began to sink in. People, as a group, have blood to spare. There's a reserve in case you cut yourself, in case you have the urge to donate, in case of emergencies, similar to the backup weapon system most police officials use. When a cop is on duty, and something happens to his weapon, he has a spare to cover his back. A person could only lose so much blood before the pressure in their veins begins to drop, before their organs stop functioning like they should, before they end up another cold, lifeless body on a stainless steel table.

"Warrick, there was an accident...Sara and Greg were hit by a car...Greg's okay, a little banged up, I think they're going to take him to Desert Palm to check him out. Sara's already been taken, I don't know how she is or anything, but Grissom says to meet us down there when you're done at the decomp." Catherine said shakily, fighting the tears that threatened to overflow as she repeated the situation. She wasn't going to allow herself to cry, she wasn't Sara's friend right now, she was the CSI who was going to put the person responsible in jail.

She knew her thoughts were in vain. No matter how hard she tried to detach herself, she knew she'd be unable. This was Sara she was thinking about. Practically part of her family, one of her closest friends, the woman she envisioned as her maid of honor when she imagined her wedding to Warrick. Greg, the man she had watched morph from a silly lab tech to a damn good CSI. They had been plowed down by some idiot in a car, and instead of owning up for their actions, that idiot had ran away like a coward.

Catherine pulled out a bindle and, using her forceps, slid shards of a broken headlight into the envelope, a frown crossing her face. It seemed so pointless right now, although she wanted to catch the creep who did this to Sara, she wanted to know what was going on. She hated the worried feeling of not knowing anything, she longed for answers. This was going to have to move faster, at least, she was. Forcing the fatigue away from her body, she quickened her pace, keeping her attention focused on the task in front of her, knowing the sooner she concentrated on the evidence, the sooner she could head towards Desert Palm.

* * *

Nick sat alone in his parent's living room, cradling his new niece in his arms, oblivious to the laughter and conversation flowing out of the dining room, where his parents and sister were finishing the meal Justine's crying had interrupted.

He had been more than happy to pick up his niece and cradle her in his arms, her innocence diffusing all of his anger instantly, her bright blue eyes making his pain melt away.

How could something so perfect come from someone so terrible? Karen was a sweetheart, but Travis had been a devil in disguise. He could see the resemblance from Justine to her father, even at her young age, although she definitely favored her mother. Thank God for small favors. Justine would be a reminder of Travis for the rest of Karen's life, but at least if she didn't look like him, it wouldn't hurt so badly. At least, that's what he liked to tell himself. He couldn't stand the idea of his sister being miserable forever because of her scumbag husband.

He smiled down at Justine, whose eyes were closing more and more by the second, and he happily sighed. She was so innocent, so pure, so beautiful. It was breathtaking and marvelous how something so perfect could come from another human being. She didn't know of the awful things the world had in store for her, all she knew was that there were people who loved her and were going to take care of her until she was able to care for herself.

He had the unfortunate job of dealing with the inhumane beings the world housed, which only made this moment more special, and more heartbreaking. He knew that he would die to protect this tiny little girl, and he was filled with an unexplainable sense of peace looking down over her, but as the realization that she'd have to grow up living in this world, filled with crooked people with crooked values and morals, his chest began to tighten in panic. He couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to her, his love for her was too strong to fathom any of the nightmares he saw daily happening to this precious child.

It was moments like these he longed for a family. Someone to feel this way about, someone to share his pain with, someone to create a new life with him and help him get through all of his inner demons, someone to share the happiness of just being alive with.

He knew it would be hard. People who didn't see death every day didn't appreciate life as much as the people he worked with. If you don't know what you could be enduring, you can't appreciate the little you may have. As the newborn fell asleep, Nick made the decision to seek a meaningful relationship once he returned home. He had wasted too much time pining over what he couldn't have, focusing on his career when he should have been planning a family, and taking life for granted. It was time to focus on his relationships, rebuild the friendships that had started to fray since he started obsessing over Jessica.

How could a little baby make him realize so much? He was so mesmerized by his niece that he didn't hear the phone ring, and it took his mother shaking his arm for him to jolt back to reality, his sappy smile fading slightly as he remembered what the real world had in store for him.

"Nicky, telephone. It's a Warrick Brown from work. I tried to take a message, since you really can't do much about work from here anyway, but he insisted that he needed to talk to you." She took the baby from him, and Nick realized how cold his arms felt without her.

Sighing, he held the phone to his ear, "Hello."

"_Nicky, my man, you need to come home."_

Rolling his eyes, Nick replied, "Warrick, I'm coming home in a few days. Whatever it is can wait until I get back. I'm sure you guys can survive without me for a few days, can't you? How did you even get my parent's number?" It was the long pause that caused Nick to worry, "Warrick?"

"_Man, I don't know how to tell you this...Sara and Greg were in an accident tonight, they were hit by a car. Greg's okay, but Sara's in pretty bad shape..."_

Nick's heart fell into his stomach, and he had to force himself to remember to breathe, "Hit by a car? What? How? When? Who? How is she? Who's working the case? What hospital is she in?" The questions poured out fast, but Nick had to keep talking, because if he stopped talking, the questions he was asking would start to sink in, and he'd start to realize the severity of the situation. He was certain that if he had to think about Sara dying, really think about it, he'd vomit all over his mother's beautiful imported rug, and that wasn't going to happen if he valued his life.

He found himself glad he had been sitting, because if standing, he would have fallen. He also found himself glad his mother had taken Justine, because at the moment, his body was numb and he wasn't sure if he would have been able to keep hold of the baby. He took a few deep breaths, reminding himself he had to breath, "I'll be on the first flight back."

"_Nicky, just hurry. It's not looking too good right now. They took her back for surgery as soon as she came in, internal bleeding, a possible collapsed lung, broken ribs, broken arm, dislocated shoulder, torn ligaments and tendons in her knee, concussion, the works, and that's just from their initial diagnosis. We're still waiting on the doctor to tell us more after her surgery...they don't know how serious the damage was, we may lose her. I'll explain what happened when you get here. I'm sorry to bother you at your parent's house, I knew you'd want to know."_

Nick felt a wave of panic wash through him, and he hastily said, "Thanks 'Rick, I'll be home as soon as I can. Keep me posted, and if you see her before I do, tell her I'm thinking of her and I'm on my way. She's going to make it, she's a fighter."

He hung up the phone, nearly knocking his mother down as he stood up quickly, the worry evident in his voice, "I've got to get back to Vegas, my friend Sara was in an accident and it doesn't look good."

"Honey, you can't just rush to the airport, you need to make reservations and pack your things. Rushing off in a panic won't help your friend."

Nick turned to his mother, panic mixed with tears in his eyes, "Mom, you don't understand. These people are my family, too. The family that's always there for me, no matter what, day or night, 24/7. Sara needs me, I have to go, even if it means renting a car and driving home, even if it means walking back to Nevada."

"Just go." she replied, unshed tears in her eyes, remembering the day when Nick used to have such passion for his blood family, back in the times where their problems seemed so much smaller and so much more insignificant. As happy as she was for him to have such intense feelings and belonging with his friends and coworkers, to know he was happy and taken care of in his new home, her heart ached as she realized her baby was now all grown up, fighting adult battles, being a real man. She touched his arm gently as he passed, giving him a smile through her tears, "Nicky, take your father's credit card and charge your flight on it. Buy yourself some dinner and your friend some pretty flowers."

Nick took the credit card, although he was sure he wasn't going to use it, and gave his mother a kiss on the cheek as he walked towards the hallway, wanting to do nothing more than grab his clothes and get home. His mother's voice stopped them as he reached the bottom stair, "Nicky, let us know how she is. Anyone you care about, we care about too. Be careful, okay?"

His first response was to snap at her about how he's a grown man and could take care of himself, but seeing her worried expression, and the sleeping baby in her arms, his burst of irritation deflated and he sighed, "I will Mom, thanks."

As he raced up the stairs, two at a time, all he could think about was how worried he was about Sara, praying all the while that she was alright.

* * *

Catherine leaned her head against Warrick's shoulder, her eyes drooping closed for a moment before she forced herself awake again. She was so exhausted, although she wasn't about to give in to her fatigue until she heard more about Sara's condition. Until then, she was settling with resting her head against Warrick, letting her eyes shut just long enough for her body to calm down.

If the tired feeling wasn't bad enough, she had started feeling sick again not too long after arriving at the hospital, and she was struggling to hide the fact that her stomach was doing cartwheels, her head throbbing painfully. She wished she knew what was wrong with her, that way she could take some pills and move on, but deep inside, she knew, even though she didn't want to admit it.

She forced her eyes open again, sleepily taking a cup of coffee from Grissom, who had taken to pacing the halls in worry, his normally stony face softened with fear. The moment the liquid touched her tongue, she knew it was a mistake. Forcing the cup into Warrick's hand, she fled from the waiting area and into the bathroom, flinging herself into the first stall and retching.

She hadn't eaten much, so it didn't take long for her stomach to empty, leaving her feeling worse than before. She staggered to the sink in a haze, splashing water on her face in hopes of waking her up, or at least helping her brain wake up, but it was no avail. She had been living off of 4 hours of sleep a day for too many years to count, but suddenly it just wasn't enough anymore.

She dreaded going back into the waiting area, because Warrick and Grissom would insist she go home, which was the last place she wanted to be. She didn't care how tired she was, she didn't care how nauseous she was, how achy she was, all she cared about was the girl in the operating room, the last of the team she had become friends with, the woman she had so tightly bonded with over the last year. They had been through a lot together, and she'd be damned if she left without knowing if Sara would even pull through.

The door opened, and even though Catherine didn't look up, she knew it was Warrick by the electricity in the air.

"I'm pregnant." She said in a cold voice, so unlike the tone she normally used, the one she saved for moments like this, when she was afraid of losing it in front of everyone. She held her breath, waiting for his response, knowing it was a 50/50 shot whether he'd be happy or upset. Heaven knows, she had been going back and forth on her reaction ever since she started to suspect.

Warrick was silent, though, and she continued without looking at him, "I haven't taken a test, but I know. I'm tired, I'm throwing up, I'm sore, I'm irritable, I'm emotional, I'm dizzy and disoriented."

She turned around to look at him, only to see the tears in her eyes matched the ones in his. He held out his arms and she turned to meet his embrace, both of them sinking to the floor together as she began to sob, her outburst causing a few of his own tears to escape. For the next hour, their world only revolved around the two of them as they sat on the cold tile floor, bodies pressed against each other, their tears turning slowly into a silent embrace.

This was the same position Grissom found them in when he came to retrieve them for the doctor's report. The three walked back into the waiting room, each holding their breath and waiting to hear the words they so longed to hear from Sara's surgeon.

_TBC, if you nice people encourage me with replies. Hmmm...would a threat work? I am holding Sara's life in the balance, might I add. _


	7. Chapter Seven

**Disclaimer**: I don't own CSI or anything else I mention that we all know I don't own.

**Author's Notes:** Well, I didn't want to write this chapter. In fact, I put it off all of last week, and if it wasn't for having to work today, it wouldn't have been completed, since I had to stay in the building for my lunch hour because Sam (a.k.a. The Root of All Evil) decided to split (again) after an (yet another) argument. Emmithar: Every time I saw his smarmy little face today, I thought about your review, which was the only reason I was able to bite my tongue and focus on the positive, instead of blowing up at him and storming out too (again), because the more I think about what you said in your review, the more I realized you were right. Does that mean there's hope for Sam and I?

I got an interesting review, saying that I could please all shippers by killing off Sara, and I laughed for awhile, because I had actually considered killing her. I then changed my mind. And changed it back. And back. And so on...I guess you'll have to read to find out what I decided... I always appreciate feedback, and suggestions, because they really do help when I get into a pinch.

As always, let me know what you think! I love feedback!

_Jenny_

**Seven:**

Greg sat on the roof of his apartment complex, his body tense and slightly shaking. The rest of the team was, no doubt, at the hospital waiting to hear about Sara, but he couldn't bring himself to be there, it would only make what happened a reality.

Sure, the throbbing cuts on his face, arms, and hands reminded him of the situation constantly, but it wasn't the same as waiting on news on his girlfriend. He wouldn't be able to handle seeing Catherine cry, Warrick and Grissom anxiously watch the doors, waiting on a sign of the doctor. By now, Nick was probably on his way back, and he certainly didn't want to see him in his present frame of mind.

He felt so damn guilty for this whole mess, he couldn't help it. If he wouldn't have kissed her, she wouldn't have ran out, she wouldn't have gotten hit by a car. Even after the kiss, even in the road, he could have done something differently, something to change the outcome of the night. What if he would have pushed her out of the way? Could he have gotten to her before they were both hit? What if he hadn't called her name, and she hadn't stopped, could she have made it to the curb?

There were so many possibilities, all leading to places other than the trauma ward of Desert Palm Hospital.

His hands shook as he wiped away angry tears, resisting the urge to slap himself for being so weak. Sara was in the hospital, probably in tremendous pain, and he was going to sit here and cry like a baby? How would that help anything? He hated himself for not being there with her, although he knew he wouldn't be able to bring himself to drive to the hospital, to sit in the waiting room with baited breath and hope for the best.

His cell phone rang, but he pushed it away, the ringing of the phone causing his head to throb harder, and resisted the urge to toss it off of the six-floor building. He pulled his knees to his chest, holding himself tightly, trying to stop the flood of guilt that kept showering down over him.

His phone continued to ring, and Greg could feel the panic building up inside of his chest. They would only call relentlessly if it was bad news, something he had to hear right then, wouldn't they? He knew that his coworkers, no, his _friends_, cared more than that, they would call him with any news, or even if they hadn't heard anything and were just concerned about him. Knowing this for a fact, though, was different than feeling it in his heart. His and Sara's lives had been like a roller coaster for the past year or so, and he wasn't ready to deal with another sudden plunge into darkness.

No, he wouldn't answer. While alone, he could pretend she was okay, that she was working and he was off for the night. He could act like nothing had happened, and put off dealing with the inevitable emotions that would explode if the call was about bad news. That way, if the call was, in fact, good news, he wouldn't be missing out on anything, because in his mind, she was still okay. His logic had never been simple, and the older he got, the more he realized how crooked it was.

The sun was shining brightly, it's rays beating on Greg's skin relentlessly as he sat on the black rooftop, although Greg chose not to feel the burning heat. So many people went through life not feeling every little thing, and it seemed like they were the more stable of the population.

His team, for instance, was made up of many types of people. Nick, Catherine, and Sara (although she'd never admit it) were feelers, they sympathized with the victims, they were disgusted and outraged by the injustice of the world and the sick individuals that lived in it. They took cases personally, on more than one occasion, and once shift was over after a particularly bad case they could all be found mourning the victim of that particular case, along with all the ones they had worked previously. Grissom and Warrick rarely got emotionally involved in cases, both stuck to the science and the job, instead of the motivations and feelings behind it. Not to say that they didn't mourn their victims as well, although, for them it wasn't the victim being mourned as much as the knowledge of the crime that had taken place, the insane things people did to other people.

Greg was a feeler, as well, which he had never thought to be a negative quality. Sure, he tried to hide it, just like Nick, Sara, and Catherine did, not because he was ashamed to feel how he felt, but because he admired his other two coworkers so much that he didn't want to disappoint them.

After tonight, though, he was sure he'd start trying to be less emotional and more cold and calm. He never wanted to feel raw emotional pain again, as he felt over the last 12 hours. At that moment, sun burning and blinding him, he vowed to take a step back from his feelings and move on.

It was that decision, alone, that enabled him to finally answer his cell phone, convincing himself that whether or not the news was good or bad, he would not fall apart.

"Sanders." He hoarsely whispered, before clearing his throat and saying a bit stronger, "Sanders."

"_Greg, it's Warrick. Where are you, man?"_

Greg forced himself to remain calm, noticing that Warrick's voice gave away no signals of what he was feeling, what he was thinking. That was probably the reason he had been elected to call him. "I had some things to do," He sounded like such a jerk, he couldn't do this...but he had to. "What's up?"

Tears burned in his eyes, but he clenched his fist and hit it against the ground, the stinging in his hand forcing the tears from his eyes, the sadness forgotten as a stab of pain shot up his arm.

"_Sara's out of surgery."_

Greg hadn't known she needed surgery. He was officially the world's worst boyfriend.

"_She's stable, for now, in ICU though. There was a lot of internal damage, a punctured lung, broken ribs, internal bleeding, spinal swelling. They are going to have to take her back and do further surgery for her knee, she messed it up pretty badly, but it wasn't life threatening, so they are going to wait until her body's a little stronger."_

Greg hit the ground again, angry that tears were now starting to pool in his eyes, despite his strongest effort to keep them away. Hearing a tremble in Warrick's voice only fueled the fire burning inside of Greg.

"_They are allowing visitors, one at a time, for now. They are hoping to remove the respirator later this afternoon. They think that if they can get the swelling to go down a bit, she may wake up as early as tomorrow."_

Tomorrow. That's just great, he walked away with a few bumps and bruises, a few cuts and scrapes, and she's going to be unconscious at least another day. Just great. Life was so unfair.

"_We're all worried about you, Greg. We expected you to come sit with us at the hospital, the whole team's here...Gris, Catherine, Nick. Brass and Hodges stopped by for a little while. Even Ecklie showed up. We know you and Sara are close, we all just want to make sure you're taking this okay."_

Okay? How could he be taking this okay? He should be in that bed, hooked up to machines, fighting for his life. Sara should not be going through this, it was all his fault. How could he be okay knowing that his best friend, the woman he loved, could die? And if the guilt over the accident wasn't bad enough, now he was plagued with the knowledge that everyone stopped by to check on her, even Ecklie, and he had been sitting on his roof like a pouting child, totally consumed with his own feelings, ignoring everyone else around him. What kind of person did that make him? What kind of friend?

His voice was hoarse again as he replied, "Yeah, I'm going to be okay. I'm just really sore," His mind was screaming the word 'Lie' over and over as he continued, "I didn't think I could sit in those awful plastic chairs all night, but I'm glad you called."

"_Grissom wants to talk to you." _

The line was silent as the phone was transferred to his supervisor.

"_Greg, it's Grissom. How are you feeling? Catherine said the paramedics discharged you at the scene..did you get some rest?"_

Greg could hear the concern in his voice, which just made Greg feel a little crazier. Grissom and Warrick were not supposed to be showing emotions, how could he shut his off if they couldn't even control theirs, when they had tons more experience? Why were they doing this to him?

"I'm a little sore, but I'll live." Greg shook his head sadly, hoping Sara would be able to say the same in a few days.

"_I want you to take a few days off of work, as long as you need, actually. I do need you to come in for a bit this afternoon though...I know it's not good timing, none of us think so, but we need to have a shift-meeting. It doesn't come from me, but straight from the sheriff. We'll start at 9:00, which is after visiting hours, if you want to stop by and see Sara."_

Leave it to Grissom to bring up work. How did he expect to have a meeting with the entire shift if Sara was going to be unable to attend? Was it about Sara? Was it to discuss a replacement in case she didn't make it? Did Grissom know something he didn't know? The questions were driving him crazy, and he found himself regretting answering the phone call more and more as the time passed by.

"_Greggo, you, of all people, should be down here."_

Nick's voice flowed through the phone line, and Greg's heart sank. Had Sara told him that they were together? Had he figured it out? Did everyone know? He could feel the blood pounding in his ears as he waiting for Nick to continue.

"_I'm not criticizing you, you know me better than that, but I do know that you'd never forgive yourself if she didn't pull through and you hadn't made the effort to at least see her."_

Didn't Nick realize that Greg already knew that? But if they only knew how close he and Sara were, they wouldn't be speaking to him for being such a lousy, cowardly boyfriend.

The next voice was Catherine's tired, teary one.

"_Greg, hon, don't listen to him. You do what you feel you're up to doing, and don't ever feel guilty about it. Sara knows you're thinking of her, and she's going to make it. Nick's just really worked up. And believe me, I know you're not okay, but please remember that we all love you very much. If you need anything, call me, okay hon?"_

Catherine understood, because she was in the same situation. If something happened to Warrick on the job, right in front of her, she'd feel the same way. She knew that he and Sara were practically living together, and although she never came out and admitted it, he was pretty sure Sara had told Catherine that they were dating.

Catherine had been in an accident the year before, and while she had been pretty badly injured, she had to watch as Sara was injured as well. It was the reason they had bonded, the reason everything had progressed as it had. If they hadn't been in the accident, Catherine wouldn't have been dependent on Warrick for months, Sara wouldn't have lived with Greg while she healed, Greg wouldn't have taken the leap from the lab to the field. With that said, Catherine and Warrick wouldn't have spent enough time together to realize they liked each other in a romantic way, and wouldn't be living together. Greg wouldn't have been working the hotel shooting, and wouldn't have been taken at gunpoint, Sara wouldn't have rescued them, they wouldn't have gotten so close. If they hadn't been barred from that case, they wouldn't have been free to work the case with Nick's brother-in-law, they wouldn't have gone to Dallas, and they wouldn't have decided to work on a relationship. If they hadn't been dating, there would have been no accident.

Catherine knew how something like this could complete change a life, and somehow she knew he was on the edge of insanity. Suddenly, he felt warm inside and managed a soft smile as he said, "Are you guys staying at the hospital?"

"_Grissom is going to go sit with Sara for a few minutes, and then Warrick and I will take turns. After we're done, we're heading home...we're both about to pass out from exhaustion. Come see Sara, they say she can hear us talking to her, even though she's unconscious, it may do you some good to get some things off your chest."_

Wasn't that the truth?

"_And call us if you need anything, honestly, anything at all. I'll keep my cell phone on even when I'm in the shower, okay? I'll see you at the meeting tonight."_

"Bye Catherine." Greg said, shutting his phone off and letting his head fall back, the sunlight beaming on his face, his vision red behind his closed eyelids. He just might go visit Sara today...after all, talking to her while she was unconscious just meant she couldn't argue back, right?

Looking down at his now-pink skin, he decided it was time to get out of the sun, and with creaking bones and sore muscles, he rose to his feet and walked back down to his apartment. Now that he made the decision to go visit Sara, he just had to find the courage to push aside the guilt and follow through.

* * *

Catherine pulled the covers up around her, rolling onto her side and looking at Lindsey with an apologetic gaze, "Baby, I'm sorry, but I am so exhausted. You know I love you, I really do, but I need to get some sleep. I can't keep my eyes open anymore."

"But Mom!" Lindsey whined, her hands on her hips, "You said that we'd go buy new shoes today. And you said we could get the PS2 today, too. I was looking forward to playing with Warrick."

Catherine let one eye close while she let out a heavy sigh, "Lindsey, I'm just getting home, I am way past exhausted, and I really don't feel well. I have to go into work early for a meeting, I just spent the last 12 hours in the hospital waiting on news about Sara, and I've got to be back at work in just a few hours. I offered to let you use my credit card and have your grandmother take you shopping, you can even buy a new outfit, okay?"

"Why is Miss Sara in the hospital?" Lindsey asked, her face crinkling with worry, sitting down next to Catherine, "I thought you were working, I didn't know something had happened. Is she okay? Is that where Warrick is? You didn't get hurt too, did you?"

Catherine shook her head, squeezing Lindsey's hand gently, "Sara was walking across the street and was hit by a car. She's going to be okay, but she had to have surgery. Warrick had to run by the store to buy a few groceries and stuff, he'll be here any minute. Greg was with Sara when it happened, but he's okay. Why don't you take a nap with me?"

"Mom, I'm not a baby anymore." Lindsey said, rolling her eyes, but laughing when Catherine pulled her down onto the bed, tickling her relentlessly.

Catherine smiled softly, "You'll always be my little girl, and believe me, in 15 years or so you'll be wishing you could take a nap in the afternoon."

"I don't think so, Mom. But if you want me to take a nap with you, I will." Lindsey said with a smile, "That way we can at least spend some time together."

Catherine moved over so Lindsey could get comfortable, and by the time Warrick arrived home twenty minutes later, both were asleep, Catherine on her back, with Lindsey cuddled at her side. With a smile, he climbed in beside them, imagining what it would be like with the three of them, plus a baby.

He had never thought he'd really settle down and have children. He had been a nerd in high school and college, and while he went on a few dates, it wasn't anything serious. Once he became a CSI, he was fairly certain he could never really have a family, with the long and unusual hours. He had always admired Catherine for finding a way to make it work, as well as many of the people on day and swing shifts that had managed to make their families work despite their hectic jobs. Now that he was in the position of having a serious relationship and a child on the way (not to mention a pre-teen at home) he couldn't imagine going back to an empty house at night.

He had been shocked since Catherine told him she suspected she was pregnant, they hadn't planned on having any children together, Catherine always regretted not having enough time with Lindsey, and throwing a baby into the mix would be so stressful and unfair to their current situation. The more he thought about it, and he had certainly thought about it all day, the more excited he grew. A baby. A 8 pound, life-changing miracle. Sure, he didn't know what to do with a baby, besides the basics of giving it a bottle and burping it, but the thought that he and Catherine had created something out of their love made him feel so happy...and it wasn't even born yet. He couldn't wait to see what it felt like to hold him or her in his arms, to see it's little eyes looking back at him, to watch it grow and mold into a little person.

He drifted to sleep, his dreams filled with family picnics and vacations, Catherine by his side, and Lindsey in the back seat, playing with an infant son.

When Catherine awoke, she was surprised to find the bed empty, the clock reading 7:15 p.m. She knew she needed to get up and take a shower, as it was, she'd barely have enough time to grab a bite to eat while walking out the door, but she couldn't summon up the energy to leave her warm bed. She was pleased to noticed she didn't feel nauseated, and even though she was still sleepy, she wasn't still suffering with an all-consuming fatigue as she had been earlier.

She walked into the living room, surprised to see Lindsey and Warrick sitting about a foot back from the TV, black Playstation 2 controllers in their hands, a 18-wheeler truck game on the screen. She stood in the doorway, partly wanting to ask when they had time to go buy their video game system, and partly wishing they'd never notice her presence. It was so nice to watch them interact together, more like friends than a daughter/step-father relationship.

Catherine's smile grew as Lindsey's truck used a turbo-boost to jump off of a ramp, putting herself ahead of Warrick's truck, sending Lindsey into a shriek of laughter. Warrick nudged her with his elbow, whispering for her to be quiet so they didn't wake Catherine up.

After Lindsey's triumphant shout of victory a few minutes later, Catherine decided to make her presence known, "Ah, so you got your games after all?"

"Warrick took me to the store." Lindsey gushed, "We got this trucker game, because Warrick thought it looked cool, and I got a skateboarding game, and a trivia game, and a _Tetris_ game, and a _Harry Potter_ game, and a motorcycle game. Oh, and I also got a _Spiderman_ game, which is really fun, and a baseball game. And Warrick and I have been having so much fun! Warrick says that he'll play with me every night before you two have to go to work, and he's actually good at the games, not like you were when you used to play Nintendo with me."

Catherine smiled, taking a seat on the sofa, "I'm glad the two of you are having fun. Did you eat dinner yet?"

"We stopped at Jack-in-the-Box." Lindsey said excitedly, "And, we even picked you up a salad, it's in the fridge. We figured you'd want to sleep as late as you could."

Warrick nodded, saving the game and switching it off, "I was going to give you until 7:45, then I was going to come wake you up. I called Grissom, to check on Sara, and he says it's still no change. Visiting hours start tomorrow at 8, so we can stop in and sit with her for a bit before we come home in the morning. I made sure I took my shower with plenty of time for the hot water heater to refill, and Lindsey and I even took the clothes out of the dryer and hung them up."

"Except for your beige pants, Mom, and your black button-down shirt. I ironed them both for you and they're hanging up in the bathroom on the door for the linen closet, so you don't have to do anything except take a shower and get dressed." Lindsey said, a proud smile on her face, "And, I did all of my homework and cleaned my room."

Catherine hugged Lindsey tightly, flashing Warrick a huge smile, "I'm so proud of you, Lindsey...you both have done so much to help me out. I love you so much. I'm so lucky to have such a wonderful daughter and boyfriend."

"Warrick!" Lindsey squealed, turning to the man standing a few feet away, "Do it!"

Warrick fished for a box in his pocket, walking over to Catherine and getting down on one knee, box in hand, "Catherine, I love you and I love Lindsey so much. I can't imagine my life without either one of you...you made me so much happier than I ever thought I could be. Will you marry me?"

_TBC_


	8. Chapter Eight

**Disclaimer:** I down own CSI or anything affiliated with it. If I did, it would have to be a cable show, because there would be a lot more nudity of certain males...hehe... 

**Author's Notes:** This is a short chapter, something I wanted to push out of the way, because I will (sadly) be away from the computer until Friday. My parents are in town and are insisting that my brothers, sister, and I constantly hang out until they leave Thursday night. My brother and I were quick to remind them that Thursday was CSI (literally, at the same time we both practically yelled it) and that we could to family things as long as it was at my brother's house, watching CSI and eating pizza, which has been our CSI ritual since day one (except he always stops eating his pizza, and I usually am chewing while pointing to the body parts and blood and stuff going 'This is so cool!') 

And as a side note...I am such a country girl, and I never realized it until today. I actually begged my brother to let me drive his new tractor around his property today when I went to pick up my daughter from my sister-in-law. And it actually excited me to do 20 miles an hour on it on his property, and I actually asked him to let me go for another spin. I was horrified when I realized how much I actually do belong in the South. 

_Jenny_

**Eight:**

The moment Grissom walked into the break room, he could feel the tension in the air. He briefly considered turning away and heading back to his office before he was spotted, where he could call Catherine on her cell and have her hand out performance reviews and assignment slips. Unfortunately, the thought process took too long to cycle and before he could slip out unnoticed, Nick met his eye. 

Turning to Catherine and Warrick, who were curled up together on the sofa, talking quietly to each other, Nick snapped, "Lovebirds? Grissom's here, let's get this over with." 

Grissom resisted the urge to tell Nick to watch his tone, which was definitely sarcastic and bitter, knowing that if he said something, it would probably anger Nick more. They were all going through a hard time, and he knew Nick didn't need the stress of Sara's situation on top of his already full platter with his sister, but he couldn't let him take it out on everyone else. 

Instead, he pulled out a chair and sat down, "Catherine? Warrick? Join us at the table, please." He watched as Nick glared at the couple, who were positively glowing about something, and felt a stab of sympathy for the younger man. It must be so hard to watch two people so happy, even during a depressing time, and not even be able to summon up a tenth of the joy they are radiating. He, actually, knew how hard it was, he had spent a great deal of his life feeling the same way. 

Greg sat across from Nick, his feet pulled up onto the chair, to where his knees were pushed up against the table, his body in a tight ball. He looked awful. His face was pale, despite the dark pink sunburn covering his face and arms, and dark circles were visible beneath his eyes. He hadn't spoken, or made eye contact, since Grissom walked in the room, and Grissom had to once again resist making a comment, this time to ask if Greg was okay. It would be a stupid question, it was obvious that he wasn't. 

The moodiness that clouded the table was greatly contradicted by the sunshine over the couch, where Catherine and Warrick had been perched. Sure, they had bags under their eyes that were large enough to hold three weeks worth of luggage, but despite the obvious frustration and fatigue they all felt, they had plastered huge smiles on both of their faces. Grissomw as very curious as to what had brought this on, because at the hospital, just hours earlier, both had been tense and quiet. 

He waited for everyone to get comfortable before beginning, "The Sheriff has some new policies he wants to implement, as well as an updated budget. Unfortunately, this means we will be cutting a few CSIs and shuffling some people around." 

He paused, waiting to see if there would be a reaction from the group. Greg let out a sigh, still not meeting anyone's gaze, his unblinking eyes fixated on the wall ahead of him. Catherine and Warrick still had goofy grins pasted on their faces, as though they didn't understand the implications of his statement. The only one who really did anything was Nick, who let his hand fall to the table with a loud thud, "Which one of us are you going to fire?" 

Grissom shook his head, "It's not definite that we will lose any of you. We are cutting three CSIs, but they do not necessarily have to come as one from each shift. It is possible that two will come from days, one from swing, or that all three may come from a different shift." 

"Or that all three may come from us." Nick said angrily, "Haven't we all been through enough? Why cut people? Why not just pass over raises this year? We did evaluations less than a month ago, why couldn't they just not give anyone a raise and use that money to pay the others' salary?" 

Grissom sighed, "Nicky, calm down. I don't make the rules and I can not change them. I can tell you, however, that you guys are a wonderful group of CSIs. The solve rates among this shift are the highest in the lab, higher than most labs. You are all bright, qualified, experienced workers, and I'm going to fight hard to keep all of you. In order to do that, I need to do some spring cleaning with your personnel files, and show the other supervisors, as well as the lab director and the sheriff, that we are all willing to correct our mistakes, even when we don't feel they are mistakes." 

"What kind of mistakes?" Catherine asked, worriedly looking towards Warrick, who had taken her hand into his own, "What are we looking at here, Gil?" 

Grissom handed them each a slip of paper, sighing and rubbing his temples, "We've had a lot of major incidents in the last 2 years. None were really preventable, but even so, it is making the whole shift look bad. Catherine, you and Sara were involved in a serious car accident last year which resulted in a large amount of time out of work, with pay. Thankfully, both of you recovered nicely, and we all know it wasn't something you two could control. However, I am going to assign you to a defensive driving class offered by the LVMPD for it's officers. As soon as Sara is up to it, she will attend as well." 

"Defensive driving? I'm not sixteen, Grissom." Catherine said angrily, "It wasn't my bad driving skills, we hydroplaned in the pouring down rain! I didn't drive unsafely, I didn't neglect something important, I just was in the wrong place at the wrong time!" 

Grissom held up his hand calmly, "Catherine, calm down. This isn't coming from me, we need to show everyone that we own up for any mistakes we make, accidental or not, and the more we dot our i's and cross our t's, the more likely it is that you all will still be employed at the end of this month. You, especially, need to prove your dedication to the job, no matter what it takes." 

"Why's that?" Warrick asked nervously. Did Grissom know about the baby? How could he? His worried eyes met Catherine's, and he squeezed her hand gently, the same questions flowing through each of their minds in a quick rush. 

Grissom motioned to their hands, which were tightly clasped together, "While dating your coworkers isn't against the rules, it is frowned upon by the higher authorities. I wouldn't put it past, actually, I expect Ecklie to bring up your living arrangements in the group meeting we have next Friday. I just want to make sure Catherine shines, not everyone gets to work with her like we do, and none of us want to lose her." 

"Um..." Catherine said softly, her face flushing with embarrassment, pulling her hand from Warrick's grasp and holding it out for Grissom to see, "I guess this would be a good time to inform you that we're getting married, right?" 

Nick's eyebrows shot up, his foul mood forgotten as he rushed to give them both a hug, patting Warrick on the back, "Way to go, man! Congratulations!" 

Grissom smiled, reaching out to embrace Catherine as well, "I'm happy for you, you deserve someone who's going to treat you well." 

"Thank you." Catherine murmured, her lips near his ear as she whispered the next part, "Gil, I'm pregnant." 

Grissom pulled away, his eyes wide, opening his mouth to talk, but closing it after seeing Catherine's pleading look. "How long?" 

"I'm not sure, I need to go to the doctor to find out." Catherine whispered, "I had to be honest with you, I wasn't planning on telling anyone yet, but now...well, I didn't want you to be blindsighted." 

"Thank you." Grissom replied, taking a seat as the excitement of Nick and Warrick began to die down. He noted with sadness and disappointment that Greg hadn't budged during the commotion. He tapped his pencil against the table, "Greg, you're the newest one, and the only one who has a spot waiting for him if you're removed from field work, that makes you more vulnerable than everyone else. You were very good in the lab, just as you are in the field, so they will almost certainly consider which position to place you. You were also involved in an incident several months back where a suspect was killed. You and Sara will retrain in the safety policies of the lab, as well as the rules and regulations for law enforcement under this jurisdiction." 

Grissom waited for a response from Greg, but only earned a brief glace, so he continued, "We all have skeletons in our closet, for some it is harder to hide theirs, while others go unnoticed until being forced to reveal. Hopefully, there will be no surprises at this meeting. Each of you will retake the proficiency exam, each will be scheduled for a minimum of three forensics conferences and seminars that will take place over the remainder of the year. I know this sounds really bad, but I don't want to lose any of you and we need to do the best we can to make sure none of you are deemed replaceable, because I know none of you are." 

"Grissom, this really stinks." Nick muttered, his gloomy mood returning rapidly as the shock of Warrick's engagement wore off. "I don't want to think of any of us leaving." 

"You know it's going to be Sara, don't you Grissom?" Greg said, his voice sounding nothing like his normal cheery tone, it's raspy hoarseness giving away the fact that he had been crying all afternoon, "She's had too many 'incidents' and she's going to be considered the biggest liability. Of course, you may not have to worry about her because she may be dead before you have to choose anyway." 

Fresh tears in his eyes, he pushed his chair away from the table and stormed out of the room, leaving the rest in a uneasy silence. After a few seconds, Nick stood as well, "I'm going to go check on him." 

Catherine looked down at the table, tears forming in her eyes, "He's right, you know. She's had a rough year, the accident, the shooting, and now this? They aren't going to consider her solve rate or attendance rate or anything after looking at that. They probably won't even research enough to see that she wasn't at fault for anything that has happened to her. She's going to be crushed, Gil, if she loses her job. Her job is her life." 

"I know that, Catherine." Grissom replied, staring down at the paper in front of him. He had been pushing that very thought from his mind since he started reviewing their files. He couldn't stand the thought of losing Sara just as much as anyone else on the team. He shook his head, rubbing his temples again as he felt a migraine start up, "They're seeing each other, aren't they?" 

Catherine's eyes immediately shot down towards the table, as Warrick looked at Grissom with a questioning expression, "Who?" 

"Yes." Catherine sighed, "Greg and Sara had been together about six months or so. They were taking their relationship slow, and were working very hard not to let it interfere with work. There's no reason for it to get out, though. They aren't telling people, they are keeping it a secret." 

Grissom sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Everyone's going to know, it's written all over Greg's face every time her name is mentioned. We're all trained CSIs, Cath, we are trained to pick up on this sort of detail. I should have known...this isn't going to look good if it gets out." 

"I know." Catherine said softly, her heart heavy as she realized how much trouble this budget cut was going to cause. "You aren't going to tell anyone I'm pregnant, are you?" 

Grissom shook his head, "Not until this all blows over. Just like I'm not going to mention Greg and Sara's relationship. I want this to be focused on work performance only, it's unfair to all of you to bring personal conflicts in as well." 

"Ecklie fights dirty." Warrick sighed, wrapping an arm around Catherine and allowing her to rest her head against his shoulder, "We all know that." 

Grissom sighed, pushing his papers away, "We shouldn't have to be doing this right now, we're too tired, too stressed out, too worried. You two sign your papers, saying we've talked, and head out to Henderson, we've got a B&E. I'll go talk with Greg." 

"Go easy on the kid, alright?" Warrick said as he scribbled his name on the form Grissom had slid towards him, "He can't help who he loves, and he's in pretty bad shape. You know how hard it is for us to think about Sara right now, and he's got to feel 100 times worse." 

Grissom nodded, placing their papers back into their folders and wishing them luck on their case. Taking a deep breath and hoping for the best, Grissom left the break room and went to look for Nick and Greg. 

Greg laid his head against the sheets of Sara's hospital bed, her hand clasped in his, fatigue preventing him from doing much more than stare at her. His head was throbbing, and he could feel his body trembling slightly. He knew he needed rest, he knew he needed to go somewhere quiet to think and sort out everything that was going on, but he couldn't bring himself to leave. 

The thought of how Sara would feel if she got fired was too much for Greg to handle, it brought tears to his eyes every time he contemplated it. She had been through hell for the last year and half, it would be so unfair to deal her another blow so soon. 

Of course, that was assuming they'd have a chance to fire her. After all, it had been two days and she hadn't come around yet. He had been sitting next to her, his eyes focused on her sleeping face for two entire days, although his body longed for sleep, his muscles ached from lack of use, and his head throbbed hard enough to nearly render him unconscious. 

He had gotten over his initial hesitation to visit after talking to Grissom, who had encouraged him to go and see her, telling him that if she loved Greg as much as he loved her, she'd want his face to be the first thing she saw when her eyes opened. It only took that little nudge from Grissom to push away the guilt and apprehension he felt at the idea of seeing her in a hospital bed with tubes and machines hooked up to her, and Greg hadn't left her side since. 

He lifted his head slightly, letting it fall to the bed again as he was riddled with dizziness and nausea. He glanced at his watch, realizing for the first time that he hadn't eaten anything since he started dinner the night of the accident. Sure, Catherine and Warrick had offered him a meal when they came to visit Sara, but Greg had refused to leave her side, and outside food wasn't allowed in the ICU rooms. 

He decided Sara was more important than food, anyway, and made no move to get up and walk towards the cafeteria. 15 minutes later, however, he was relieved that he hadn't left. 

He had let his eyes close for a second, almost falling into the darkness of sleep, but jumped to his feet as the machines in the room started to go haywire, beeping loudly with alarms wailing. Before he knew what was going on, he was ushered out of the room by a team of doctors and nurses, sinking to his knees in the hallway as gave in to tears once again, his body unable to hold him up any longer. 

_TBC_


	9. Chapter Nine

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything or anyone, although I'm thinking of opening a "CSIs-R-Us store, where we can rent them out hourly, think anyone would be game?

**Author's Notes:** Sorry it took so long to get this out, if you had any idea at all how my week at work has been, you'd understand the delay...I had to readjust my time card this morning when I left, and I think the total hours from last Sunday to this morning was 108.75. I haven't had time to bathe, much less type. :-) But I am thoroughly enjoying my time off, if all goes according to plan, I won't step foot in that building until 7 AM Tuesday morning. And, unless something comes up, I am on vacation the week after next. I really hope I get to take it, my last two got cancelled because of work related emergencies. Let's face it, they didn't even give me my full six weeks off after my daughter was born, at 3 weeks they were calling to ask if I'd come back, at 4 they were begging, at 4 and a half they were demanding.

Anyway, I finally have a end in sight for this story, so there's going to be approximately 4 more chapters...if you want them, hit the reply button. (Yes, I'm in a threatening mood today).

I owe this chapter to Emmithar, who fixed my numerous mistakes and encouraged me to continue and finish this story, and has kept me sane all week...well, as sane as I can be. You're the best, girl!

_Jenny_

Nine:

Nick sat in the spacious conference room, which had been reserved for the building-wide meeting over job performance, and stared numbly at the wall opposite him.

He couldn't deny that things had been tense, none of the shift had really spoken since Grissom had their team meeting a few days back. Catherine and Warrick had been acting strange, only talking amongst each other, sometimes sharing an intense, silent conversation with Grissom through their eyes. Greg hadn't returned to work yet, he had been perched by Sara's bed, unwilling to leave, despite the doctor's telling him that she was going to probably be unconscious for awhile.

To make matters worse, he had stopped by to visit Jessica earlier that day, and she had refused to see him. He knew his parents had contacted her, Karen had told him when she called to see if he made it home safely. He didn't know the details of what had happened, although he had a sinking suspicion it was the reason she was refusing his visit.

He knew the events that had been taking place around him was affecting him, he could see it in his work, in his appearance, in the simple fact that he no longer wanted to get out of bed in the morning, just because he was afraid of what the new day would bring.

He could see the same dread on the faces of Catherine, Warrick, Grissom, and Greg. This meeting was the last thing they needed. He looked down at his watch, deciding that after this meeting was over, he was going to try and visit Jessica again...this time, he wouldn't take no for an answer, they'd have to drag him out of there kicking and screaming.

He looked up as some of the day shift CSIs walked in together, laughing and talking over their steaming cups of coffee. The girl, Nick thought her name was Stacey, but he wasn't sure, sat down beside him, completely ignoring his presence. Chris and Mark, the two males on the day shift, sat down in the empty chairs beside her, laughing over some case they had solved the day before. He knew Brittany, the last dayshift CSI, wouldn't be too far behind. He had seen her around enough to know that she didn't hang out much with the other three, and she was a lot quieter than the others from her shift.

Nick had always watched her from a distance, her long brown hair swishing when she walked, her head almost always bent over a paperback book or a case folder. It was as if she wanted to blend in with the walls, hide herself away from her coworkers. While it helped to make others walk past her as if she wasn't there, it always got Nick's attention when he spotted her. So badly, he wanted to go up and talk to her, but he was almost scared she'd turn him away.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, Brittany sat down at the other side of the table, across from Nick, her brown hair falling slightly into her face as she started to thumb through her Stephen King novel. He was about to say hello to her, when Catherine and Warrick walked in, their hands not linked for the first time all week.

They sat down beside Nick, Catherine muttering a soft hello, her face deathly pale. She had one hand resting on her stomach, the other fidgeting nervously with the pen and tablet she had brought with her, standard policy for any departmental meeting, and she kept shooting nervous glances in Warrick's direction.

"You okay?" Nick asked softly, forgetting about his foul mood as concern for his friend entered his soft heart. "You don't look so good, maybe you should see if Grissom would excuse you from the meeting."

Catherine slowly shook her head, taking a deep breath before speaking, "It's okay, Nicky, I just feel a little queasy, that's all. It was a long shift, you know..."

"Tell me about it." Warrick groaned, the tiredness evident in his features. "We need Greg and Sara back."

Chris, the redhead flirt from day shift, turned in their direction, "All three of you look beat. How will you handle it when you're down a CSI or two?"

"What makes you think one of ours will be out?" Catherine snapped, the hand that was fidgeting with the tablet suddenly clenched defensively in a fist, "Didn't you and Blondie here--" she pointed a thumb in Stacey's direction, "Leave evidence at a crime scene and compromise the entire case just last week? Or how about forgetting to check the unmade bed for semen samples in a rape case, Mark? Oh, that's right, you were too busy talking on the phone with your girlfriend."

"At least I'm not shacking up with a coworker. You will be lucky if your whole team isn't fired." Stacey shot back arrogantly, "And no one on our shift is stupid enough to dart out in front of a car." She snorted, "By the way, how is Sara?"

Greg, who had been sitting quietly on the other side of the room, slammed his fist on the table, causing Brittany, who had yet to look up, to jump back and let out a small shriek, "You leave Sara out of this!" Greg said loudly, "If you weren't there, you don't know what happened. If you don't know what happened, you shouldn't open your mouth and look like an idiot."

"Oh, look, the little baby of grave is getting mad." Stacey taunted, rolling her eyes at Chris and Mark, "Yell and scream, go ahead, I dare you. That will only get you thrown back in the lab where you belong, you can't play with the big kids, sweetheart."

"Just shut up." Warrick muttered, waving his hand in Stacey's direction, "If all we are going to do is fight, this is a waste of time."

The room lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, until a few moments later, the two CSIs working swing, walked quietly into the room, filling two more chairs.

By the time the supervisors and sheriff walked into the room a few moments later, the air was thick with anger and tension, and silent glares were being thrown across the room by nearly every occupant.

Ecklie cleared his throat and nodded looked at Grissom and Parker, the new swing shift supervisor, who both nodded in return.

"We've asked you all here this morning to discuss the performance reviews we have conducted with each one of you. We have reported our findings to the lab directors and to the sheriff, and we regret to inform you that we will be losing several members of our staff here at CSI." Ecklie began, opening his folder and skimming the contents of the page.

"As you all know, we have taken each employee and carefully reviewed all CSI's on shift, as well as each teams effectiveness and the lab as a whole. Overall, you should all be very proud. Each and every one of you are very intelligent, ambitious individuals who are an important asset to this lab. It was very hard for us to agree on which of you will be terminated. We carefully reviewed your cold cases, your solve rate, complaints filed against you, your court performance, attendance, availability and ability to go above and beyond what is expected of you, incident rates, recurrent training, education, experience, and yearly evaluations."

Ecklie nodded to Grissom, who rubbed his forehead with one hand, obviously tired and upset with the situation, then added to Ecklie's opening, "We want to stress that we would keep all of you if we could, we have a strong lab and exceptional employees, and we value each and every one of you, however, each shift will be losing one team member, and the remaining employees will probably be moved around to accommodate the decreased number of available employees. Parker?"

Parker stood, folder in hand, "We want to make this as quick and painless as possible. I work with two exceptional employees, Valerie and Alex, and I'm sorry to say that Val will no longer be with us. Val, I will need to see you in my office shortly, alright? It is nothing personal-"

"I know." Valerie interrupted, tears shining in her eyes, "I've made some mistakes, I'm still a rookie, Alex has been here for years, I know. I'll meet you in your office."

Valerie grabbed her purse, stopping only briefly to give Alex a hug as she fled the room, the door slamming shut behind her.

Grissom looked down at the table, uncomfortable. He didn't want to do this in front of everyone, it was unfair to the person being laid off, it was unfair to the other employees who had to watch. It was moments like these that he really wanted to knock Ecklie's head off of his shoulders. He was relieved that he was last, hopefully Ecklie and his CSI's, as well as Parker and his, would leave and they could do this in private, the way he had wanted to all along.

"I have an amazing team. Stacey, Chris, Mark, Brittany...you four have been nothing but brilliant since the days you started working here. You all know what you are doing, you work well as a team, you are always willing to help each other out, but we will have to let one of you go. Stacey, please meet me in my office once we are finished here."

Stacey shot to her feet, her voice tight with anger, "You son of a bitch! If anyone should be tossed to the curb, it should be Brittany. Chris, Mark, and I work perfectly together, I can't believe you'd chose them over me. I've been here longer than all of them, I can't believe you'd just throw me out!"

"We don't have time for the dramatics, Stacey. Please wait for me in my office." Ecklie said, his voice hard with barely contained anger, "Now."

Stacey stormed out as well, the door slamming shut behind her. All attention turned toward Grissom, who was tapping his thumbs gently against the table, the nervousness evident on his usually calm face.

Before he could begin to speak, however, Catherine shot up from the table, exiting the room without a word, the door loudly closing behind her. Grissom watched as Warrick nervously eyed the door, and after a few seconds, he said quietly, "Warrick, would you mind going to check on Catherine?"

"How unprofessional." Ecklie muttered quietly, which earned him a hard stare from Greg, Nick, and Grissom.

It was Greg, surprisingly, who spoke. Normally Ecklie frighted him, but lately he had been to on edge to keep his comments to himself. Later, he wanted to kick his own butt for saying whatever happened to come out, and he was sure this time would be no exception, as he said cooly, "Catherine's been feeling under the weather lately. If you thought that was unprofessional, I suppose you would rather her get vomit on the table? The floor? How unprofessional would you say that would be? Oh, I forgot, your team is perfect, you can't relate to us humans."

"Greg, that's enough." Grissom said after a few seconds of hesitation, clearly wanting to see the young CSI put Ecklie in his place, but afraid of the consequences, "I can continue without them, for now."

He turned to Ecklie, "This morning I realized that it would not be fair to my team to let one CSI go before I was able to complete all evaluations. My team is short handed already, since Greg is out on medical leave, and Sara's in the hospital. Until I am able to talk with Sara and conduct an evaluation on her myself, I can not pull anyone off my team."

He looked from Greg to Nick, trying to communicate silently with them that he wasn't planning on losing anyone off of his team, but instead he was met with an icy glare from Nick, and a fiery one from Greg, who jumped to his feet.

"I can't believe you, of all people..." Greg fumed, pointing a finger at Grissom, "That just goes to show you who he is going to eliminate, we all know it's going to be Sara. We have all known from the moment you told us about this crap. Hasn't she been through enough? Haven't you put her through enough? Of all people, why would you do this to Sara? You know how much she loves her job--"

Grissom held up his hand, starting to grow angry, "Hold on a second, Greg, I never said I was going to terminate Sara."

"You didn't have to, it's obvious." Greg spat out, shaking his head angrily, his body starting to tremble, "She's in ICU, fighting for her life, and you are going behind her back to get rid of her without her even being aware of the situation. You are a sick man, Grissom, a sick man."

He stormed out of the room, leaving the room silent, anger brewing in both Grissom and Ecklie's eyes, a hurt and pained look in Nick's, and shock and fear in everyone else's.

After a few moments, Ecklie turned to Grissom, "You need to get your shift under control, before you lose every last one of them."

* * *

Greg slipped into Sara's hospital room, taking her hand gently into his own hand, angry tears that had been threatening him since he left CSI now falling helplessly down his cheeks.

"Sara, sweetie, please wake up. You've got to come back to me. I'm going crazy without you...I think I may have just said the wrong things at the wrong time, I probably am about to lose my job. It's not the same without you, please just open your eyes."

Her pale body remained still, and Greg started to sob, bringing her hand to his face as he slowly started to crumble, the stress and pain of the last week flooding his body, causing a tidal wave of emotion.

He had been so scared when she had coded a few days prior, things had been touch and go from that point on. She was now hooked up to several machines, and had yet to regain consciousness. She wasn't breathing on her own, although the doctors were optimistic she would start too soon. They removed the tube every so often, but she was still struggling to breathe on her own, so they left her hooked up while she slowly grew stronger.

He was starting to think she'd never wake up. He had spent days by her side, willing, praying, begging her to wake up, yet he had gotten no response. He tried to remain positive, but as the days passed, so did his hope that he'd get the woman he loved back.

The doctors hadn't told him, but Greg knew that the longer she remained unconscious and unresponsive, the slimmer the chances of a complete, problem-free recovery were, if she even woke up at all.

He laid his head against her bed, still cradling her hand in his own as he cried himself into a light sleep, exhausted by the emotional day, the lack of rest and nutrition he had forced on himself by sitting with Sara day in and day out.

Nearly an hour later, he was shocked to find her other hand resting gently in his hair.

_TBC_


	10. Chapter Ten

**Disclaimer**: I still don't own them, although if I did, I'd be resting quite comfortably with one or two of them in Hawaii right now.

**Author's Notes**: Here's Chapter ten, hope you enjoy. Thanks for all the feedback I've gotten so far, it's really inspired me to keep writing. Please let me know what you think, and I'll try to get more written soon.

Special thanks, again, to Emmithar for helping me correct my mistakes. I'd look really stupid if it wasn't for her. You rock, girl!

_Jenny_

**Chapter Ten:**

Nick walked into Grissom's office, gently tapping on the door, a frown on his face. After Grissom made eye contact, Nick asked softly, "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure Nick, anytime." Grissom replied, shutting the folder he had been looking at and motioning for Nick to take a seat.

Nick shut the door behind him, chosing to stand nervously in front of Grissom's desk instead of sitting.

"A closed-door conversation? Is there something I need to worry about?" Grissom asked, trying to lighten the mood, but inwardly groaning when Nick's look became even more serious.

Nick finally took a seat, tapping his foot anxiously against the floor, "I know this is going to sound stupid, but I need to talk to you about this."

"Go on." Grissom said, leaning forward slightly to concentrate on the younger man, "If something is bothering you, it is never stupid, Nicky."

Nick sighed, hesitating for a moment before saying quietly, "I'm worried about Greg."

Seeing Grissom's confused look, he continued quickly, "The way he's been acting lately…well, it's just not like him. We've all been through hell over the last year, Greg included, but even after he was nearly killed by that psycho with a gun, he wasn't this withdrawn and angry. I know he's worried about Sara, he won't leave the hospital, but this isn't good for him. We're all worried about her, and we aren't going off the deep end."

"Greg is having a hard time coming to terms with the circumstances of the accident." Grissom said carefully, selecting his words as cautiously as he could. "He feels guilty, I suppose, but he and Sara are very close."

Nick sighed, shaking his head impatiently, "It's not just that, Gris! I'm sure he does feel guilty, and I'm sure he was scared to death, but there's something more going on. He doesn't talk to any of us, and when he occasionally does, he goes out of his way to be mean to all of us. You saw the way he blew up at you and Ecklie earlier, and it's not the first time. I'm worried that he's losing control; we can't take another loss, Gris. Someone needs to talk to him."

"I'll see if Catherine can--"

"No!" Nick exclaimed, jumping to his feet, "Gris, this needs to come from you. Man-to-man, from someone who is as close of a friend to Sara as he is. I tried to talk to him, he told me I didn't understand, maybe you can make some progress in ways I couldn't."

Grissom sadly sighed, "Sara and I aren't as close right now as we have been in the past. Greg knows that. I won't be able to use that as a bonding point. However, if you want, I can talk to him. I don't think any of us can really help him though, Nicky. None of us are in his position; we can't understand what he's feeling right now."

"What do you mean, not in his position? We are all friends with Sara, sure, she and Greg are close, but--" Nick stopped, his face paling slightly as he turned to face his boss, "Are they--?"

Grissom sighed heavily, unable to meet Nick's gaze, "Sara and Greg have been seeing each other for a few months now, and it has recently started to get serious. This isn't something we've made public in the lab, and I'd like to keep it quiet for the time being. I only found out a few days ago..."

"I can't believe it!" Nick said angrily, his voice rising, "How could she not tell me? How could he? Does everyone know except me? Why am I always kept out of the loop? How can they be dating? They're not even in the same league!"

"Nick, calm down." Grissom warned, seeing the younger man's angry stance and shallow breathing, "Their relationship really isn't any of your business. If they want to keep it a secret, it's their prerogative."

Nick shook his head, "How could Greg do this to me? I need to find him."

"Nicky, don't do anything rash." Grissom called out to Nick as he rushed out of the office. The young man's hands were trembling slightly, his eyes moist with unshed, angry tears. Grissom sighed, letting his head drop into his hands, what had he done now?

The ringing of his phone soon filled the silence of the room, and he answered it warily, "Grissom."

"_Gil, it's Jim. Guess what one of my guys just located?"_

"I'm in no mood for guessing games, Jim." Grissom replied curtly. "Just come out with it, okay?"

"_Dark Blue Mercedes, with a busted windshield and blood on the hood. The driver is Carlos Santiago, age 27. He's on his way in for questioning, car's on its way to CSI. Care to join me while I ask him a few questions?"_

Grissom was already pulling out the folder on Sara and Greg's accident, "I'm on my way."

He walked down the hall, file in hand, and pulled out his cell phone, dialing a familiar number and waiting for a response.

"_Willows."_

"Cath, it's Grissom, how are you feeling?" Grissom asked, concern evident in his voice. She sounded so tired and weak that he felt guilty to be calling her in to work. As this thought crossed his mind, he started thinking of who else he could call to finish the case.

"_Like crap, I can't keep anything down. If this doesn't get better soon, Warrick's threatening to take me to the hospital."_

"So I guess you're in no condition to watch an interrogation on the suspect from the hit-and-run." Grissom said lightly, trying to recall which case Nick was on. If anything could distract Nick from wanting to pound Greg to a pulp, this could.

"_Like hell I'm going to miss that. Give me 15 minutes, I'm on my way."_

Grissom chuckled softly as he hung up his phone, mentally chastising himself for thinking Catherine would miss this. He knew that they were close, and he knew Catherine's drive to protect the ones she cared for. He also knew that even if he was as sick as Catherine had been for the past few days, he'd drag himself into the interrogation room as well.

15 minutes later, as he stood behind the reflective glass mirror, he was surprised to see Catherine enter, followed by Warrick and Nick.

Catherine smiled at Grissom apologetically, "I had to tell Warrick where I was going, and he called Nick. We all want to be a part of this; she's part of our family."

"It's okay, I understand." Grissom said softly, watching as two uniformed officers led an angry Santiago into the interrogation room. "Alex, from swing, has been processing the Mercedes. A blood sample has already been sent to DNA, and we've already matched some fibers found on the windshield wiper to the shirt Sara was wearing that night. It's going to be open and shut. Who should go in and represent CSI?"

The group looked back and forth amongst themselves, silently communicating through their eyes to determine who was going to volunteer. After a few moments of silence, Grissom sighed, "I'll go."

Grissom slipped out of the observation room and into the interrogation room, leaving the other three to carefully watch the person they all knew was responsible for Sara and Greg's accident.

* * *

Greg stroked Sara's hair gently with his left hand, his right firmly grasping her hand, "Sara, you've got to wake up. I need to see your beautiful eyes; I need to hear your voice. I'm going insane without you, I need you."

She hadn't stirred since moving her hand earlier that night, and Greg's brief excitement was starting to diminish once again. He was determined, though, to be present, and awake, the next time she responded in any way at all. The doctor had reassured him that the movement was a good sign, that she wasn't falling into a deep coma and she was responding to her evironment, but Greg knew he wouldn't believe it until she opened her eyes and verbally told him she would be okay. Until then, he'd remain skeptic that there would be any changes.

He let a tear fall down his cheek, landing on the bed next to where their hands laid intertwined together. "My temper has been getting the best of me; I'm becoming more and more irrational. I need your maturity to balance out my lack of maturity...or something, I don't know what it is, but I know that I won't feel right until I have you back."

More tears fell onto her bedspread, but he made no move to wipe away the ones that remained on his face as he continued, "I've been short with everyone...Ecklie, Parker, and Grissom had a meeting with all of us today, Parker fired that girl...what's her name...and Ecklie fired Stacey. They're going to get rid of one of us too, and they won't tell us until you're better. I sort of accused Grissom of it being you, well, more than sort of."

"Don't worry though, because I won't let him. Nick, Cath, Warrick, and I will fight for you. You haven't done anything wrong, so you don't even think about losing your job; you just focus on waking up, okay?" Greg said with a weak attempt at a chuckle, "Honestly, I hope it's me. I can't take all of the stress; I miss the days of being safe in the lab. Sure, there's a risk of the damn thing blowing up, but that's nothing compared to having a gun pulled on you, a car plowing you down, having to check over your shoulder every few seconds. Besides, if it meant you got to keep your job...I'd do anything to make you happy, Sar."

Greg rested his head against her hand, careful not to put any pressure on her arm, which remained covered in small lacerations, "Something's up with Cath, she and Warrick have been acting strange...well, stranger than they normally do. You missed the announcement, they're getting married. God, Sara, I am so mad at them. It's not even anger, really, maybe it's jealousy. I just can't stand that they're so happy when you're lying here in this damn hospital bed, and I'm wallowing in self pity and depression high enough to drown a horse. They're worried about you too, though, we all are. You need to open your pretty eyes, just to give us something to hope for, okay? You're driving all of us to insanity."

He was about to start telling her about Catherine's mysterious illness when his cell phone began to shrilly ring. He answered it, somewhat agitated that his time with Sara was being interrupted. He knew it was work; they were the only ones besides Sara who called his cell.

"_Greg, it's Warrick. Gris just called; they're bringing the owner of the car that hit you and Sara in for questioning. Want to meet us down there?" _

Greg nearly dropped the phone as Warrick's statement began to sink in. After a few moments, he managed to find his voice, "I'll meet you guys there."

He slid his phone back onto his belt buckle, squeezing Sara's hand gently, "Sara, sweetie, that was Warrick. They found the guy who hit you with their car, and they're questioning him right now. I'm going to go down there and see what that jerk has to say for himself, but I promise I'll be right back. Please, Sara, just try to wake up, but don't be scared if I'm not here. I'll always come back for you. I love you, Sar."

Giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead, he stretched and walked towards the door, determined to make sure this guy, whoever he was, paid for hurting his Sara.

Warrick squeezed Catherine's hand, moving slightly closer to her and resting his head on top of hers. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been run over by a truck, and then thrown off of a 30 story building. I can't believe this isn't our guy." Catherine sighed, her voice flat with barely concealed anger, "I think he's covering something up. He's got to know who was driving the car on that day."

Warrick rubbed her shoulders, sighing as well, "He's got receipts to show he was out of town, and you know Brass is going to get a jumpstart on talking to everyone who had access to the car while Santiago was out of town."

"This can't be happening, not when we were so close to nailing the guy!" Greg said angrily, his voice echoing throughout the room as he slammed his fist into the wall, "We'll never find who did this. Having the car isn't good enough, we need more!"

Warrick shook his head, "Man, don't be like that. The car is a good start; Alex from swing is a good CSI. He'll get the prints from inside of the car, we'll compare it to the guys Brass talks to; we'll nail the bastard, okay?"

"And if Sara wakes up before we do? I can't tell her that we can't find the guy who hit her, even though this is what we do for a living. She's going to be so upset. She's fighting for her life, man, and we can't even nail somebody for it. Every day we bring closure for families who have lost, or are in the process of losing, someone special to them. Now, when it's us, we've got nothing? Do you have any idea of how messed up that is?" Greg shouted, slamming his fist into the wall again.

He was out of control, he knew it, and he was scared by it. They were all angry, he knew that as well, but it was one thing to know it, and another to have it eating you alive. He knew he was out of control, he knew he was making things worse, but he couldn't seem to find the 'off' button that would end his tirade.

Nick could see the anger radiating off of Greg, and he could feel for the younger man, but his own anger was outweighing his pity for Greg. Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, "We know Greg; we don't have to be having sex with her to be upset that she's dying."

Greg's fist had made contact with Nick's cheek before either of them knew what was happening.

_TBC_


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Disclaimer/Author's Notes**: I don't own them, but maybe with all of the overtime I've worked this week, I could put a down payment on them. Lol. Thanks to my good pal, Emmithar, there may be a 4th story in this series. She's such a good inspiration to write...you rock!

I'm hoping to have another chapter up this weekend, but I can't make any promises. Replies may help speed up the process, though.

_Jenny_

**Eleven:**

Greg sat on the cold bench in the locker room, tears stinging his eyes as he stared at the concrete floor. He had gone over the edge, taking that first swing at Nick, and now he was destined to pay the price.

Nick didn't waste any time swinging back at Greg, angry words being shouted by both of them in a bitter waves of hatred and rage. Both knew they were saying and acting in ways that one day they'd beg to take back, but never would be able to do. In less than 1o minutes, friendships had been ruined, bodies battered, and the two men had unknowingly taken the fate of an unborn child into their own hands.

After Greg dealt the initial blow, Nick had tackled him in a brutal retaliation. For several minutes, they both wrestled on the floor, taking cheap shots and yelling truculent insults back and forth.

Warrick had stood back at first, although Catherine was silently motioning for him to break the two men up, knowing that both were carrying a heavy burden inside, and it would ultimately be helpful for them to get it out now, rather than later. After he could see their blows weren't dying down, and their ranting was getting worse, he stepped in to pull them apart.

Catherine had been out of the way, so far, standing in the far corner of the room, watching the scene with a horrified expression. Normally, she would be in the center of the fight with Warrick, trying to break them up. Today, however, she was holding back for her child's sake, knowing that in the middle of any brawl, anything within striking distance is fair play.

Warrick wasn't having any luck stopping the angry men from their testosterone battle, and he had yelled for Catherine to go get help. She had been careful not to get to close to the altercation, but as she was passing by Warrick, Nick had taken a cheap shot at Greg's gut, to which he forcefully pushed Nick away. Nick, in return, fell against Catherine and knocked her against the table with great force.

The howl of pain that came from Catherine's mouth was enough to stop Nick, Greg, and Warrick in their tracks for a split second, before Warrick snapped back into action, rushing to his fiancé's side and yelling for one of the other men to get some help.

After standing in a stunned silence for a few more seconds, Nick rushed off to get assistance, leaving Greg staring at Catherine's pale face with a heavy heart and a sudden jolt back into reality. Warrick had lowered a tearful Catherine into a chair, running off a string of questions that finally clued Greg in to the fact that Catherine was with child.

His body had gone numb, and he was certain he was going to pass out. He wasn't granted that brief release from reality, instead, he had to watch as Catherine was escorted, via stretcher, into an ambulance and brought to the hospital.

He was faced with the knowledge that if, at any moment, something happened to that baby, he would have another layer of guilt hanging over his head. If Catherine or Nick decided to press charges, he could not only face a small jail sentence, but he would lose his job and the only friends he had. Of course, the friendships had already been ruined by his actions tonight, but he would lose the chance of making amends if anything happened to that baby.

How was he going to face Warrick or Catherine again? He almost hoped they did fire him, the guilt with seeing them every day would be too much for his soul to bear at this point of his life, at any point of his life.

Was it not bad enough that one member of their "family" was in the hospital, but now he was responsible for yet another one being admitted?

Grissom had instructed Greg to remain in the locker room until summoned to his office, Nick had been instructed to remain in the break room. Both considered themselves lucky they hadn't been put in holding cells until this mess had been resolved.

He slammed his fist angrily into his locker, the pain that radiated from his hand to his shoulder with a sharp throb temporarily taking his emotional pain away and replacing it with physical. Physical pain, he could deal with. After the throbbing faded to a dull ache, he resorted to worriedly pacing around the locker room, frightened not only for Catherine and Warrick, but for himself and Nick, for Sara, for the relationship they all shared. Things officially would never be the same again.

* * *

Nick held a small sandwich bag full of ice against his eye, moving it down to his lip once and awhile. He had only caught a brief look at himself, and what he had seen then was awful. Experience told him that it probably looked a lot worse now, and by morning, he would look like something that rolled out of Doc Robbins's office.

He was pretty sure that his nose was broken, the bleeding had slowed down a lot over the last hour, although it hadn't completely stopped. He was certain he would have a black eye in the morning, and possibly a fractured jaw to top it off. The physical scars, he knew, would not run nearly as deep as the emotional ones.

He had never seen Warrick so frightened. He had always managed to maintain his cool, no matter what the situation was, but tonight he had seen Warrick near his breaking point. He knew Warrick loved Catherine, but he never realized how much until he saw them interacting as they waited for the ambulance to arrive.

Pregnant. He had no idea. He had initially blamed Greg for the incident, after all, he had thrown the first punch, he had pushed Nick into their friend and caused the fall that may take an innocent life. Now that the anger had faded, he felt nothing but overwhelming guilt.

What kind of friend had he been lately, anyway? He hadn't been able to be truly happy for the couple when they announced they were getting married. He hadn't known Catherine was pregnant, even though he could now see all of the signs had been in place, as if a neon flashing sign had been plastered over her belly saying "Baby inside, bun in the oven, here, here!"

He hadn't realized his words were hurting Greg, whom he considered one of his closest friends at the lab. They had been close since Greg started working in Las Vegas, and back during their days of playstations and arcades, so close that he never would have thought they would be beating each other to a bloody pulp in the viewing room. Of course, he never thought Sara would give in to Greg's constant flirting, and he never pictured her fighting for her life in a hospital bed.

What made the guilty feeling even worse, at least toward Greg, was knowing that Greg had to feel even worse than Nick did. He was obviously beside himself with worry, he looked as if he hadn't slept in days, he had lost at least 10 pounds since the accident, yet Nick had to open his mouth and taunt him. He had no right to be angry with Greg in the first place, Sara wasn't his to claim.

Oh, but he would love to claim her. They had shamelessly flirted for years, forming what he had thought was a special bond between them. He should have known Sara wouldn't be his when she told him Greg professed he had serious feelings for her. Of course, she had told him she shot him down and he was upset with her. After seeing them together, friendly, a few days later, he just assumed they had made amends. He never would have thought they were dating.

It did make sense though, the more he dwelled on it. The quiet whispers, coming to work and leaving together, the subtle hand holding, the way they'd jump apart when anyone entered the room. He had seen the spark return to Sara's eyes, which had been absent for weeks following the shooting, when she killed to save Greg's life. He has noticed Greg relax rather quickly, as well, after being shaken up from that incident. They had helped each other move on, and as a result, moved on to new territory as well.

Catherine's pregnancy also made more sense as Nick started to piece the signs together. Just last week he had mentioned to Warrick that he needed to stop feeding her so well, her clothes were starting to get tight. Warrick had laughed and told him that he liked her clothes to be tight, it made her more sexy. Nick had responded with a question on when Catherine was ever less than sexy.

She had been working less hours, and when she did pull a shift, it seemed to drain her. She had been feeling sick, which she attributed to being overwork, but even then Nick had felt like something was off.

He noticed how uplifted both Warrick and Catherine's moods had been, and he had attributed it to their pending nuptials, but now that he knew, it seemed like it had been written across their faces the whole time.

It made his heart ache to think they wouldn't be able to hold that baby in their arms, that Warrick would remain childless, that Lindsey wouldn't get a baby brother or sister. It made him feel even worse that he never got a chance to congratulate them, and may never get that opportunity.

He lowered the ice to his sliced lip, shuddering as it started to throb once more. He and Greg could have been responsible for the death of something that was completely unable to defend itself. What kind of people did that make them? Would he ever be able to forgive himself if something happened to their child? Would Greg? Would Warrick and Catherine?

His heart plummeted as Grissom walked into the break room, a desolate Greg in tow.

Grissom motioned for Greg to sit across from Nick, and pulled out a chair at the end of his table for himself. He looked from Nick to Greg, then sighed heavily, shaking his head, "I honestly don't know what's gotten into the two of you, but we're going to hash this out right now, verbally, then we'll move on to the consequences of this childish behavior."

* * *

Warrick sat in the chair next to Catherine's small white hospital bed, grasping her hand tightly with unshed tears glistening in his eyes. The scare had only been, indeed, a scare. The doctors had labeled her cramping a threatened miscarriage, and were keeping her under observation overnight to make sure it didn't escalate into an actual miscarriage.

For now, a fetal monitor was strapped across her belly, the sound of their child's heartbeat flowing softly through the silence of the room. Catherine had her eyes closed, although both knew she wasn't asleep, neither one of them would be able to rest until they were positive their baby would be okay.

Warrick tightened his grasp on Catherine's hand, anger pumping wildly through his veins, even though Catherine had already forgiven Nick and Greg for falling into her. He loved those two men like they were family, but his baby and Catherine meant so much more to him, and knowing that their immature battle could have cost a child's life angered him deep into his soul. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to forgive them, even after this ordeal was over with.

His free hand moved to Catherine's abdomen, resting over their child, their son. An ultrasound in the emergency room had shocked both of them into silence, revealing knowledge about their child that they hadn't gotten to explore yet. For instance, they had just assumed she was newly pregnant, although the ultrasound revealed her to be 21 weeks along. They had learned their baby was a boy when he had so generously spread his legs apart, just when they thought they wouldn't be able to tell.

What they thought was a tiny organism with barely developed arms and legs was in fact a very small little boy, weighing in at 1.8 pounds and 10 and a half inches long. The last still photo the nurse shot was of him sucking his tiny little thumb.

The experience had made it so real for Warrick. He knew she was pregnant, that a baby was growing inside her, but until that moment, when he saw the tiny fingers and toes, did he feel it inside. The more he thought of it, the more anxious he was for the next 19 weeks to pass.

He felt a gentle vibration on his leg, and he looked down to see Grissom had paged him. Squeezing Catherine's hand gently, he said in a whisper, "Gris is paging, I'm going to call and let him know what's going on."

"Okay." Catherine whispered, her hand resting where Warrick's had just moved from. She had been terrified that she would lose her child, but not nearly as angry as Warrick. She knew it was an accident, and since she was fine she didn't see a reason to hold a grudge. She wasn't sure how she's be reacting if things weren't fine, but wondering what could have happened wouldn't help any of them right now.

A small flutter in her abdomen, which she had contributed to gas until a few hours prior, brought her back to reality. That flutter was her baby, the tiny little boy who had totally changed the lives of three unsuspecting people. She couldn't help the wide smile that lit up her face, she loved knowing that she was bringing a life into the world.

She had been so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn't notice the doctor enter the room until he cleared his throat.

"Ms. Willows? My name is Dr. Whitmore, and I'll be tending to you while you're in our lovely facility," He delivered the last part with an eye-roll and soft smile, "How are you feeling?"

"The cramping has gone down," Catherine said quietly, "If I could shake this queasy stomach, I'd be ready to go."

Pulling out a pen from his white coat, he jotted some notes down on her chart, "I think I could arrange for you get something to help with the nausea, and a prescription to go. I'm sure the nurse informed you that we will be keeping you overnight for observation. Once released, I want you to stay at home for at least one week, then come back to see me and we'll go from there. He seems like a healthy little boy, so I don't predict any future problems, just try to take it easy."

"Sounds great." Catherine replied, although inwardly she was groaning. Sara was out, Greg was out, Greg and Nick may be fired if the higher up's got wind of this spectacle, and now she was going to be out too? Grissom and Warrick were going to have their work cut out for them for the next week or so.

Dr. Whitmore checked her vitals and tore off the fetal monitor printout. "The baby hasn't shown any signs of distress, so just relax and let us take care of you for the next 24 hours. I don't believe there is anything for you to worry about."

"Thank you." Catherine replied with a yawn, closing her eyes one more, relief washing through her as she realized just how worried she had been, even after the nurse's reassurance. All too familiar fatigue set in, and before Warrick had returned from the payphone, she had fallen into a light slumber.

* * *

Sara's eyes slowly opened, blinking rapidly to adjust to the bright lights in her room. Her head was aching terribly, her body throbbing in every place imaginable. She groaned as she tried to focus on where exactly she was, slightly panicked as she realized she was in a hospital room.

Her eyes darted down to her arm, where the needle for her IV was embedded into the top of her hand. Holding her eyes open began to drain her energy, and she tiredly pressed the nurse call button.

By the time the nurse entered, just a few minutes later, Sara was starting to doze off again. She managed to hold her eyes open long enough to ask, "What happened?"

"You were in an accident, but you are going to be okay. Try to get some rest, and when you wake up, I'll give you a full update on your condition."

Sara was too tired to mumble a response, and as the nurse injected some pain medication into her IV drip, Sara drifted off to sleep once more.

_TBC_


	12. Chapter Twelve

_Disclaimer_: They're still not mine, but if anyone is selling them, I'd like to bid. :-)

_Author's Notes_: This is a short chapter, and very transitional. The action will come in the next part, which I should have up this weekend. We're getting close to the end, although I'm not sure if I'll extend this a bit to finish with my plans or do another story in the series...any suggestions would be appreciated, I could rush it a bit and just add 4 or 5 more chapters to the end of this, or start a new saga...

_Jenny_

**Chapter Twelve:**

When Sara opened her eyes again, Greg was sitting in the chair next to her bed, his face scratched and swollen, his eye a dark shade of purple, and his fist bandaged.

"You look awful," Sara croaked, gratefully accepting the water Greg handed to her, "What the hell happened?"

Greg took the cup once Sara had finished, shaking his head, "That's not important right now. We've been so worried about you."

Greg took her hand into his own, squeezing it gently and trying to fight tears that threatened to escape his eyes. "Oh, God, Sara. I was scared to death, all I could think about was that you were going to die and the last things we said to each other were in anger."

"I'm sorry I scared you." Sara whispered, her voice still scratchy, "Did you find the guy that hit us? Are all of your bruises from the accident?"

Greg looked down, squeezing her hand again, "No, I got these after the accident. Don't worry about it, okay? They're still looking for who hit you, us, they have a few leads that they're working on. Don't worry about that, either, just concentrate on getting better."

"How long was I out for?" Sara murmured, looking around at the balloons and flowers decorating her hospital room, "What's wrong with me?"

Greg stroked her hair gently, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. He couldn't begin to describe how relieved he felt to hear her voice, to see her beautiful eyes, to feel a response when he touched her. "You had to have surgery, you had some pretty serious injuries, but they're all fixed now. We've just been waiting for you to wake up. Oh, Sara, I'm so relieved that you're okay."

Unable to stop the tears from falling, he bent over and laid his head on her bed, his hand still intertwined with hers, tears falling silently onto her blanket.

Sara absentmindedly let her hand stroke Greg's hair while he cried, longing to say something to make him feel better, but unable to find any words that could help. Her eyes started to burn from sleepiness, and together, they fell asleep in the quiet room, each embracing the silence and presence of the other.

* * *

"What!" Nick cried out, "You've got to be kidding me!"

"No sir, Jessica Stokes was transferred to a higher security ward of the prison after threatening another inmate with a sharp object. She's not allowed to have any visitors until her five-day solitary confinement is complete." The guard told Nick, looking almost sympathetic as Nick's jaw slightly trembled.

As if this day hadn't been bad enough already, now he couldn't even see the one person who could make him feel better about his own situation. With a heavy sigh, he thanked the guard and walked down the corridor leading back to the main door.

Attacking another inmate did not sound like something Jessica would have done, she was a lot calmer than that, she was striving to prove she was not a violent murderer. Why would she act out like this so close to her trail date? Was she intentionally trying to ruin her case?

The initial shock and sadness was quickly changing to anger as he realized how potentially damaging this was to her case. She had put in so much effort, so much time, so much money to try and win this battle, and in one simple act, she may as well have thrown it all away. How could she be so careless?

Still angry over his fight with Greg, and now even more angry by the update on Jessica, Nick's blood was boiling. The talk he and Greg shared with Grissom had been enough to calm him at the moment, but the angrier he got about Jessica, the more his fight with Greg started to eat at him once more.

The talk with Grissom hadn't been too involved, they basically decided that it was Sara's choice who she was going to date, and that the personal life of any CSI was not to be discussed on the clock. Grissom had made them both apologize, and reminded them that while they were angry or jealous of the other's position, they couldn't rightly express that unless they've walked in the shoes of the other person.

Slamming the door to his Tahoe, he decided a long drive was what he needed to clear his head and calm his over-stressed nerves.

* * *

Greg stood in the doorway to Catherine's hospital room, watching as Warrick quietly whispered to Catherine's belly, his hand over her lower abdomen, obviously sharing some quiet time with his unborn child. He didn't want to disrupt him, which not only could disturb Catherine's rest but also anger Warrick.

Sara had insisted that he apologize to both Warrick and Catherine, once she heard the entire saga of what had been happening at work, down to the fight in the viewing room. At the time, he would have done anything to please her, now, he wasn't so sure.

Apologizing had seemed like such a good idea when Sara suggested it. He was sure that it would relieve some of the heavy guilt weighing down his chest, and while he wasn't sure if Catherine and Warrick held this against him, he knew it wouldn't hurt their feelings of animosity towards him or Nick.

Now that he was in the doorway of Catherine's room, where the air was tense with worry, he wasn't sure his presence would be welcomed by his two friends. Nonetheless, he had to do this for Sara, he had promised her.

He rapped lightly on the door, making his presence known. Warrick's head shot up from Catherine's bedside, and the soft, vulnerable look in his eyes was replaced with a look of anger and dislike. Before Greg had noticed Warrick rise, he was being pulled into the hallway by the older CSI.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Warrick growled, pushing Greg up against the wall, "Haven't you done enough? Or are you trying one last time to make our family as miserable as you are? Killing my son won't bring Sara back!"

Greg shook his head, "No, man, I was just coming to apologize and check on Catherine."

"You don't have a right to check on my fiancé." Warrick snapped, "I don't want to see your face down this hallway again. You stick to trauma, and we'll stick to maternity, got it? I won't have you upsetting Catherine anymore, understood?"

Greg pushed Warrick away, his temper beginning to flare, "You can't walk all over me like I'm beneath you! I made a mistake, we all make mistakes! I'm doing the right thing by coming to apologize to you. I'm sorry I got Catherine and your baby involved. I just wanted to apologize, that's what friends do."

"Friends wouldn't have gotten us into this mess in the first place. We don't want to see you, you could have cost us our child." Warrick said coldly, his eyes flashing with barely concealed fury.

Warrick's adrenaline hadn't let up since they brought Catherine in, and even though he knew it was an accident, he felt the need to release his anger and find someone to blame. It seemed as if Greg had walked right into the trap, and was now stuck in the fire of a man protecting his family.

Greg had to fight to control his emotions as Warrick's words sunk in, "So you don't consider me a friend anymore? Nick? Sara? Grissom?"

"Sara and Grissom didn't take the life of an innocent child into their own hands, unlike you and Nick. You two couldn't grow up and talk like mature adults, instead you turned the viewing room into a boxing rink. Because you couldn't control your testosterone, I could have lost my child. In my position, would you consider yourself a friend?"

Greg shook his head sadly, "I know I screwed up, I swung at Nick first, we hurt Catherine. I feel awful about it, I hate myself for it. I know it's my fault, I'm trying to make things right--"

"It _is_ your fault, and you can't do anything right now. Maybe once this whole thing blows over, we can talk, but right now you need to get out of my face and stay away from both of us." Warrick warned, his voice tight with anger and emotion.

A loud, continuous beeping from Catherine's room caused both heads to turn towards the doorway. Before Warrick could react, two nurses rushed into Catherine's room, pushing both men aside.

Giving a cold glare to Greg, Warrick hissed, "If something is wrong with my son, you will pay. This is all your fault...you just don't understand. You'll never be on our playing field, Greg, you're trying to play with the big kids and so far you've only gotten burned. First Sara, now Catherine and the baby...it seems like things have plummeted downhill since you got promoted."

Warrick pushed Greg aside and rushed into Catherine's room, leaving Greg standing in the hallway, tears stinging his eyes as Warrick's words continuously replayed in his mind.

* * *

Grissom walked into his office, rubbing his temples in a vain attempt to ward off the migraine already pounding through his skull.

It was one hour into shift, and he had yet to see, or hear from, any of his workers. Sure, Greg and Nick were out on suspension, Sara and Catherine were in the hospital, and Warrick was probably unwilling to leave Catherine's side, but just being the only CSI he had available, he had expected Warrick to at least check in.

He had four cases that needed to be handled, and he had no team. He was tempted to bring Nick and Greg in, just to cover what needed to be done.

He sat down and began to search for the paper which held the direct line to Sara's hospital room. He was fairly certain that was where Greg would be, and since cell phones weren't allowed on that floor of the hospital, there was a good chance the phone in Sara's room would be the only way of contacting the hyperactive CSI.

On top of his messages laid a plain brown envelope, with "Grissom" written in a messy scrawl. Curious, Grissom flipped it over and broke the seal, pulling out the papers inside.

_LVMPD: Criminalistics Bureau: Resignation Notice_

_Employee Name: Gregory H. Sanders_

_Position: CSI, Level 2._

_Supervisor: Gil Grissom_

_Reason for Leaving: Personal. _

_Contact Information: None._

Grissom dropped the sheet on his desk, rubbing his eyes to make sure the throbbing in his temples hadn't affected his eyesight. After re-reading it twice, the implications of this memo began to sink in...Greg had resigned without a word to anyone.

Underneath the envelope was the paper Grissom had been searching for. Dialing the familiar number to Desert Palm, he impatiently asked for Sara's room. A few moments later, he was rewarded with a groggy, _"Hello?"_ from a familiar female voice.

"Sara?"

"_Gris? Is that you?"_

Grissom, despite being in shock over Greg's hasty exit, couldn't hold back the smile that plastered his face at hearing Sara's voice, "I didn't know you were awake yet. I'm so glad to hear your voice."

"_Thanks. What do you need?"_

Grissom glanced back down at the memo, upset for calling as he heard her yawn, "Is Greg there with you?"

"_He was earlier, then he went to talk to Warrick and Catherine. I fell asleep after he left, I'm not sure if he's been back or not. Want me to have him call you if I see him?"_

"Yes, thank you. I hope you feel better." Grissom said sincerely before hanging up and sighing worriedly. He didn't want to call Catherine's room and disturb her, it was, after all, past midnight.

He decided to take a chance, noticing that while Greg's pager, badge, and gun were in the envelope, his cell phone was missing. Dialing Greg's number, he began to quietly urge the young man to pick up. His hope, however, was dashed when the faint sound of ringing filled the air of the quiet office. Digging a bit, he found the phone on the floor, under his desk, as though it had fallen.

With a heavy sigh, he picked up the phone, dialing Ecklie's number. He'd get some of the day shift CSI's in to cover his cases while he went to the hospital to see if Sara knew anything of Greg's disappearance.

_TBC_


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Disclaimer:** ...checks...no, still not mine...

**Author's Notes:** I'd love to thank each person who replied personally, but time won't allow it. Instead, I'll thank you as a group, you guys are the best. Without your encouraging words, I wouldn't have bothered to write this tonight.

I'm moving ahead in time a bit on this, although I do plan on clearing up all of the loose ends. I only expect this story to progress to chapter fifteen, and then I'm planning a short sequel to deal with the aftermath of this story (including wrapping up Catherine and Warrick, as well as Sara and Greg). This chapter deals a lot with Sara and Catherine, not much W/C, but the next chapter will focus on W/C, as well as Nick. Trust me, okay? And I know Warrick seemed a little out of character, but then again, we've never seen him in parental mode, and as a parent, I can say with confidence that your children bring out the worst side of you to even the closest of friends. Warrick will see the error of his ways, though...it'll all come together soon.

Again, thanks for all of the wonderful replies, you guys keep me motivated to write when I see that you're still reading! You guys rock!

_Jenny_

**Chapter Thirteen:**

Sara sat at the break room table, her casted leg propped on a chair as she silently flipped through case after case, trying to decide which cold case she wanted to review.

It had been nearly a month since Greg had vanished without alerting anyone of his whereabouts, and while she, Grissom, and Brass had spent each day looking for the missing CSI, no headway had been made.

This was her first shift since the accident, and as usual, she was the first of the team to arrive. Grissom had put her to work reviewing a handful of cold cases, since her disabled knee would be a hindrance in the field. She supposed that once she was through going through the old files, she'd help out around the different labs, she had gotten a little experience with that after the wreck her and Catherine had been involved in the previous year.

Of all of the issues bothering her since she found herself in the hospital, completely alone, besides Greg's disappearance, the most upsetting was the way Catherine and Warrick had been avoiding her. She could understand them being angry with Greg, he had been involved in the altercation that put their baby in harm's way, but Sara hadn't done anything besides date Greg.

She had assumed that dating Greg was the reason Catherine and Warrick, especially Warrick, had been ignoring her, because she couldn't think of anything else she could have done to make the two of them angry. The situation was only improved slightly with the knowledge that they weren't speaking with Nick, either, nor Grissom. They both came to work, did their job, and went home to prepare for the new arrival to their family.

It didn't anger Sara as much as it hurt her feelings. She and Catherine had gotten off to a rocky start as friends, and it wasn't until they nearly died in a terrible car accident that they started to warm up to each other. Once both were back on their feet, a strong friendship had been formed, but now, all of a sudden it had been destroyed. She didn't think she could ever hold Warrick's actions against Catherine, and she felt that it was unfair for them to do the same to her. She would tell both of them that, if they'd ever return her phone calls.

She suddenly felt alone again, as she had before the first accident. Back then, she was friendly with Nick, Warrick, and Greg, but they weren't really her friends. Now, she couldn't even say she was friendly. She had spent a month off of work, recovering from the hit-and-run, and she had gotten no phone calls or visitors, except for Grissom and Brass, who were trying to locate Greg.

Greg stayed on her mind constantly, she found herself hoping and praying that he was okay, that he was going to come home, that he would at least call. There had been no correspondence, and from what Warrick had told Grissom, he had been pretty upset the last time anyone had seen him.

She missed him so much, she often found herself clinging to the pillow he slept on, wearing his clothes to bed so she could smell his scent, even misting his aftershave on her towel so she could imagine it was like the old times. The fact that he was now gone made her regret every hateful word she had said to him on the night of the accident, regret every time she turned down his invitation to become more physical in their relationship.

She looked down at the file in front of her, suddenly realizing she couldn't remember a word that she had read. Flipping to the beginning, she tried to focus on the notes and photos, but as the other members of her team started filing into the room, she decided she would just wait until alone to continue.

It wasn't as if they would disturb her, Catherine and Warrick had sat on the opposite end of the table, whispering quietly to each other, and Nick stood by the coffeepot, stirring cream into his cup in complete silence, avoiding the eye contact with everyone.

With a quiet sigh, Sara started to flip through the papers again. She wasn't sure what she had expected, but a simple 'hello' wouldn't have been too much to ask. Shaking her head sadly, she began to read her file from the beginning. Daniel Houghton, age 46...

Across the table, Catherine and Warrick were doing their best to avoid contact with either Nick or Sara. Warrick had ripped into Nick like he had Greg, an action he was regretting, but he hadn't been able to make the decision to apologize just yet.

Sure, he knew that he was wrong, but he also felt like they were wrong for endangering his child's life. No one should have to apologize for defending their family. He wasn't sure when his animosity had grown so strong...he wasn't even quite certain if he was feeling animosity or fear...but somehow it had extended to Catherine, and now she had cut herself off from the others too.

He knew it upset her to abandon her friends like she did, but in his defense, he hadn't requested her to do so. Maybe he had urged her to wait and call Sara back later, but he never told her never to do so. He hadn't urged her to request to work solo, or with Grissom or himself instead of Nick, but she had made that decision. He was certain that her behavior stemmed from his actions, and her own fear that something could go wrong with the baby, but he never questioned her. The last thing he needed was to upset her and send the baby into distress.

He had been worried sick when the doctors had shooed him out of Catherine's room, working quickly to determine what was happening with their son. His worry had increased when they told him the baby was in distress, probably from Catherine's blood pressure having risen suddenly. There could have been a hundred reasons or more for her blood pressure to have risen, but he was certain it was from stress. He had felt so guilty and so useless, knowing that while he should have been focusing on Catherine and their baby, he was picking a fight with Greg. After a few days in the hospital, the baby was as good as new and they were on their way home, Catherine being forced to stay in bed for two weeks, light work after that.

Greg...his name alone made Warrick's stomach churn with guilt. So many angry, bitter words had been spoken, all indicating that Warrick was the reason he had left so suddenly.

He had been worried when Grissom had questioned him about the last time he had seen Greg, although he didn't voice his concerns. He gave Grissom a brief, toned down version of his argument with Greg, and told his boss to let him know if there was anything he could do to help.

He had heard through the grapevine that Sara had checked herself out of the hospital, AMA, and demanded to let Grissom and Brass help in the search for Greg. Of course, since there was no indication of foul play, they couldn't technically call it a case, but both Grissom and Brass had used their pull in the LVMPD to keep an eye out for the boy. Sara, in the meantime, had questioned all of his neighbors, his landlord, the spots he normally hung out at. She had contacted his parents, siblings, anyone who knew him in hopes that he was in contact with someone.

After wearing herself down to the point where Grissom was threatening to have her readmitted to the hospital, she eased up slightly, although he was certain she was still checking any possibility of his location. He knew this had to be killing her, not knowing where he was, if he was okay, what was going on...but he couldn't bring himself to reach out to her. After all, this was possibly all his fault, she didn't deserve help from a friend like him.

He brought his thoughts to the present time, knowing he needed to be focused when Grissom came to hand out assignments. Tonight was Monday, Catherine's day to work in the lab. Grissom had split her time in the lab and in the field to give her more of a chance to rest. At first she had balked at the idea, but she was gradually warming up to it, grateful for the break as she grew tired more and more easily.

She was now 25 weeks pregnant, and getting bigger by the day. A month ago, her pregnancy was barely noticeable, but now everyone she came in contact with stopped her and asked her when she was due. He was a feisty little boy, constantly moving and kicking, which was delighting Lindsey as she anxiously awaited the arrival of her little brother.

He rested his hand on her abdomen, giving her a warm smile as she covered his hand with her own.

Grissom walked into the room, several slips of paper in his hands, "Good evening, everyone. Welcome back, Sara, we're going to have a busy night tonight."

He waited until everyone looked up towards him, taking in each of their appearances with concern. Catherine looked tired and miserable, although he assumed that was from the pregnancy. Warrick's jaw was still set in underlying anger, as it had been for the last month. Nick was gazing at the opposite wall, as if he was ignoring everyone around him, also angry with the world. Sara's face was etched with sadness as she occasionally let her eyes drift to the other members of her team. She had missed so much in the last five weeks, and it seemed as if it was just now sinking in.

He hated the tension in the room, he dreaded having them all in the same room together. His team, which at one point was closer than any other group he had ever seen, was now split apart and strewn in totally opposite directions.

Sighing, he handed Warrick a slip of paper, "Car Accident, just happened, I-59 Northbound, just out of town," He turned his attention to Nick, "Armed robbery at the Stop-And-Go off of the strip. I'll be at a double homicide at _Circus, Circus_. I want both of you to meet me when you finish up. Catherine, I have Sara working on some cold cases, give her a hand."

He looked sternly at Catherine and Sara, who both had apprehensive looks on their faces, "Play nicely, and I want both of you to go home if you get too tired."

Both women nodded, looking down at the table with dread. As much as Sara wanted Catherine's friendship back, forcing them to work together wasn't going to get it. Catherine, on the other hand, felt horrible about the way she treated one of her only female friends, and was not looking forward to the confrontation she knew was to come.

The men filed out of the room, and Catherine walked over to Sara, pulling out a chair and sitting down, "What do we have?"

"Take your pick." Sara said quietly, her voice showing the emotion she was feeling inside.

Catherine pulled the folder beneath the one Sara had been looking at, "Joanna King, arson. Sounds good to me."

Sara didn't respond, instead she flipped open Daniel Houghton's folder once more, staring blankly at the information in front of her. As she tried to concentrate on the paperwork, her thoughts drifted to Greg...she'd much rather be sitting here with him instead of Catherine, who suddenly seemed vaguely interested in starting a conversation.

The more Sara thought of it, the more angry she felt. She had been brushed off for a month by her supposed friend, and suddenly now that they were alone, Catherine kept giving her expectant looks, as though she thought they would be able to get along fine now. Sara had news for her 'friend', if she thought they could forgive and forget, she was mistaken. Sara Sidle could dish out just as well as she could receive, and she wasn't going to back down without a fight.

Pushing aside her thoughts about Catherine, Greg, and the rest of her team, Sara decided it was time to focus on work. Closing her eyes, and counting to ten, she took a deep breath and let herself relax, knowing that relaxing would be the only way she'd make some sort of progress with these cases.

Catherine flipped open her own folder, her emotions mixed. She wanted to talk to Sara, tell her how sorry she was for being selfish and preoccupied with her own problems. She wanted to make an excuse for her neglect of their friendship, explain that the month had flown by and she hadn't had a chance to call. She wanted to tell her that she was sorry she hadn't been a good friend, sorry that Greg had abandoned her. She wanted to explain that she had been worried about the baby, upset over the tension with the shift, worried about Sara, about Greg, about Nick, about Warrick. She wanted to ask for comfort from the one woman she felt open enough to talk with, she wanted to share the details of the pregnancy, have someone to share her joy and anxiety.

Instead, she stared at the pages in front of her, occasionally meeting Sara's eye, but never summoning up enough courage to talk to the other woman.

She let her left hand fall to her abdomen, a soft smile on her face as the baby began to twist and turn, causing her whole stomach to move from side to side. She was so relieved that the baby was okay, she had to stay calm for his sake. To stay calm, she needed to clear the air. She could do this, she had to.

"Sara?"

Sara looked up, glancing at Catherine's folder, "Do you have anything?"

"Sara, we need to talk." Catherine said with a shaky voice, her nervousness showing. She never used to show signs of weakness, that had to be the worst part of pregnancy, the raw emotion that came with it. "Seriously."

Sara was about to respond when her cell phone began to shrilly ring. Shooting Catherine an apologetic look, she glanced at the caller ID, frowning when it displayed an unfamiliar area code, instead of the Las Vegas standard 702.

"Sidle." She said uncertainly, wondering who would be calling her at this time of night from such an unrecognizable number. The only possibility made her heart race and a thin layer of sweat break out over her body. It couldn't be, could it?"

There was silence on the other end of the line. She knew she had to act fast. "Greg?" she asked anxiously, hoping the voice on the other side would answer.

Once again, she was met with silence.

"Greg, please talk to me, tell me that you're okay. Greg? Are you there? Greg?" She couldn't keep the tears away now, as her body filled with worry and dread. It had to be him, who else would be calling her? Anyone she spoke to lived in Las Vegas, and would be programed on her cell phone. Why wasn't he answering her? Was he sick? Hurt? Kidnaped? What had happened? "Greg!"

There was a soft click, and then the line went dead. Sara's head dropped to her arms, resting on the table as her shoulders began to shake with sobs. Her chest was still sore from the accident, although several weeks had passed, but she barely felt the pain as her entire body shook with sobs. She didn't care that she was at work, she didn't care that she was with Catherine, all she could focus on was Greg, and being so close to talking to him.

Catherine watched as Sara answered her phone, slightly upset that the call interrupted their pending conversation. The beginnings of anger turned into worry as Sara's face paled and she started calling Greg's name. The worry grew to panic as Sara dropped the phone on the table, her body heaving with sobs as she started to break down.

"Sara? What happened?" Catherine asked, reaching out and touching Sara's arm gently, "Was that Greg?"

Sara's sobs grew louder, and any residual anger Catherine felt towards Sara vanished as she knelt on the floor, putting her hand on Sara's shoulder, "Sara?"

Sara lifted her head slightly, wiping her eyes as she gasped for breath, "I don't know who it was. Oh, God, I can't take this anymore."

"Take what?" Catherine asked gently, brushing some hair that had fallen into Sara's face behind her ears, "Talk to me."

Sara's arm motioned around the room, her lip trembling as she struggled to control her tears. She spoke with a shaking, yet definite, voice, "All of this. Everyone ignoring everyone else. Being alone. Greg missing. No one caring. This isn't right, this isn't _us_. What happened to us? How bad will things have to get before we can all start to get along?"

Catherine pulled Sara into a tight hug, whispering soothingly as Sara sobbed, giving in to her own tears after only a few minutes. They sat together for nearly an hour before Catherine pulled away, "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"I didn't know the number, it had to be Greg, I don't even know if he's okay. Why wouldn't he talk to me?" Sara rambled absentmindedly as she tapped her finger on her cell phone, "Just silence. What if he was taken? What if he's hurt and bleeding? What if he's just waiting for us to find him? How can someone disappear without emptying their bank account and never use their credit card? How can someone hide from us for a month without leaving us any sort of trail?"

Catherine took the phone from Sara, "Calm down and think clearly. We'll trace this number and find out where it came from. You don't know that it's Greg, we need to find out if it's really him first. Once we know where the call came from, we will know where to start looking."

"We?"

"I think we've all sat back and watched long enough. Greg's our friend too, we'll do anything we can to get him back," Catherine said firmly, "This has all gone on long enough, it's time to put the past behind us and move on, before it kills all of us. We need to stick together, that's what friends do."

Sara wiped away her tears, nodding as she picked up her cell phone, "I think it's time to give this number a call back, don't you suppose?"

"Definitely." Catherine said, sitting beside Sara and grabbing a notepad to take down any information with. Sara wrote the number from her cell phone onto her notepad before pulling over the telephone from the other end of the table. With shaky fingers, she dialed 504-670-2900, unintentionally holding her breath as she waiting for an answer.

"Bonjour, Ritz-Carlton Maison Orleans. This is Cheree, how many I help you?"

Catherine spoke, seeing Sara's stunned silence, "Hello, Cheree, this is Catherine Willows from the Las Vegas Crime Lab. I was wondering if you could tell me if a Greg Sanders has a room reserved in your facility?"

"Yes mam, hold on one moment please," There was a soft click, following by quiet jazz muzak, indicating that they were on hold. Both women sat in tense silence, waiting for the girl to return to the phone. After a few moments passed, there was another click, followed by the young southern voice they had been speaking to moments before, "Yes mam, would you like to leave a message for Mr. Sanders?"

Catherine hesitated before replying, "No, thank you though, you've been a great help to us."

"Would you mind telling us where you are located?" Sara asked, finally snapping out of her shocked silence as she realized that pending flight schedules, she could be face to face with Greg by this point tomorrow.

"Our address is 904 Rue Iberville, we're located right off of Bourbon Street in New Orleans, Louisiana. If you call when you arrive at the airport, we would be glad to send a car to pick you up." Cheree's kind voice rang through the line.

Catherine smiled, "Thank you, have a great night."

"You too. Au Revoir."

Catherine pressed the speaker button to hang up the phone, sliding the paper with the address to Sara, "You call the airport, I'll call Grissom."

"Thank you, Cath." Sara replied, flipping open her cell phone and dialing the number for the airport.

Three hours later, she was on a red-eye flight to New Orleans, her chest tight with anxiety as she realized that after all of the searching, she may have found Greg.

_TBC_


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, not mine, not mine.

**Author's Notes:** I would like to thank everyone who replied to the last chapter, you guys have been very honest and open with me, and I really appreciate that. By being critical, you help me learn from my mistakes, and I know I make plenty of them.

As for speculation of what the future holds...you'll have to read the sequel and find out. Lol. I'm sad to say that this is the last chapter of "Denial", and later on this week or this weekend, I'll present you with the first chapter of "Shadows", which will continue this saga. In "Shadows", you can expect a few things to happen...Nick and Sara will reform their friendship, Catherine and Warrick will adjust to being new (well, relatively new) parents, and Greg will resurface...of course, there will be a few curve balls thrown into the mix, and a few last minute surprises I can't resist adding. Lol.

I'm sorry for anyone whom was disappointed by the turn of events, or who feels like I've taken the characters and totally morphed them into unrecognizable blobs. Although I _hate_ to do this, because I hate to put people on the spot, I have to say (although not out of anger or defensiveness, but out of the intention to clarify) that I'm not trying to make anyone the 'bad guy'. That's why I put things in everyone's POV from time to time, so you can see their reasoning and motivation behind their actions. Yes, I made some characters do some things that were out of line. Yes, I created conflict everywhere possible. In reality, everyone is influenced by their experiences and their environment, and no one can _ever_ understand why you do what you do until they've walked in a mile in your worn out flip flops.

And, as a writer, you can't make everyone happy, although you can try. So, I'm done with that enormously long ramble session, and it's off to the story.

I know it's left with some loose ends, but loose ends are a great way to start a new story. (Wink). Anyway...hope you enjoy, please leave a comment on your way out.

_Jenny_

**Chapter Fourteen:**

"Ryan."

"No." Warrick said, not even bothering to look up from his list of baby names. "How about Dayton?"

Catherine wrinkled her nose, "Like the city? I don't think so. Try again."

"This isn't working." Warrick said with a sigh, placing his hand over Catherine's abdomen, "Little guy, you just may be called Baby Boy Brown."

"Like 'Little boy blue'?" Lindsey said with a giggle as she walked into the bedroom, flopping down on the bed beside her mother, "You should name him Dante. There's a guy that's in my class, and his name's Dante, and he's so cute," she rolled over onto her back, staring at the ceiling, "Or Brad, like Brad Pitt."

Warrick smiled down at Lindsey, playfully tugging her hair, "I'm not naming my son," He stole a glance at Catherine, who was shooting him the evil eye, "I mean, _our_ son, after a movie star or a dreamy sixth grader."

"I didn't say he was dreamy, I said he was cute." Lindsey pointed out, "If I were going for dreamy, I'd pick Matt Damon or Ben Affleck."

Warrick looked down at Catherine's list, tapping at the name 'Matthew' with his pen, "I'd say you may as well scratch that one off."

"If it were up to you, we'd have three kids, and they'd be called Dayton, Cleveland, and Philadelphia." Catherine said, rolling her eyes, "Let's stick to something normal, okay? I don't want our son to get beaten up on the playground."

Lindsey nodded, "I don't think beaten up would be a good idea...although it would be okay, because I'd kick the butt of whoever tried to mess with my little brother."

"No talking of kicking anyone's butts." Warrick interjected before Catherine could do the same, "You just worry about yourself right now."

Lindsey rolled back onto her stomach, watching with fascination as her little brother started to move, causing Catherine's stomach to contort into an unnatural shape, a large ball on one side, flat on the other, "I was thinking about myself. I came in to ask when you were going to stop reading that stupid name book and cook dinner."

"Watch your tone." Catherine said sharply, "There's ham in the fridge and chips in the pantry. Make a ham sandwich."

"A hamwich? I don't think so, Mom." Lindsey countered in a whiny voice, "I want real food. I'm tired of eating cereal, pizza, and hamwiches every night. Can't you just cook something? Or can't we go to get a hamburger?"

Catherine raised an eyebrow at her daughter, "You're _tired_ of what you have to eat? I'm tired too, Linds, too tired to cook anything. I know it's hard for you to comprehend, but one day when you're pregnant, you'll understand. Do we have any TV dinners left?"

"No, you've got to get up and cook, Mom."

Catherine and Lindsey both turned to Warrick for help, and he shook his head quickly, "I'm neutral."

Catherine sighed, "What do you want me to fix, Linds?"

Lindsey tapped her finger on the bedspread for a moment before answering, "French Bread Pizza."

"Just order a damn pizza, Lindsey." Catherine sighed, pulling a pillow over her head, "I'm so tired, sweetie."

"Come on, Lindsey, I'll cook you something, and we'll let your Mom take a nap."

Lindsey's face lit up, "Cool! I didn't know you could cook!"

"I can do tons of stuff you don't know about. I'll need some help though, so you better stick close by." Warrick told Lindsey with a smile, "And while it's cooking, I can kick your butt at our new dirtbike video game."

The two of them left the bedroom in an animated conversation about the video game, and Catherine release a content sigh. With them gone, she could finally stretch out in her bed and get some much needed rest.

* * *

Sara walked through the front door of the Ritz-Carlton Maison Orleans, and despite her rush to see Greg, she had to stop and look around. Compared to the French Quarter, where she had just spent a good half hour trying to find her hotel, this was amazing. Gone was the stench of urine, vomit, and beer of Bourbon Street, replaced with the pleasant aroma of freshly cut Magnolias. Despite the rising temperatures outside, the lobby was cool and refreshing, and decorated beautifully.

She walked to the front desk, flashing her badge at the desk clerk, "Hi, my name is Sara Sidle, and I'm with the Las Vegas Crime Lab. I was wondering if you could tell me which room Greg Sanders is staying. It's part of an, er, ongoing investigation."

"I'm really not allowed to give out guest information." the petite blonde replied, glancing nervously at Sara's badge, "It's against hotel policy, an invasion of our guests rights."

Sara sighed, running her fingers through her hair, "Okay, let me level with you," she looked at the girl's name tag, "Felicia, you look like a pretty smart woman."

"I graduated fifth in my class." Felicia said proudly, her smile dimming a bit as she added, "Of course, where were only 54 graduates."

Sara resisted the urge to roll her eyes before continuing, "Mr. Sanders is a colleague of mine, and about a month ago he left without a word to anyone. It's imperative that I speak to him," she hesitated before adding, "It's a matter of life or death, Felicia."

"Life or," Felicia swallowed nervously, "Death? Really?" she sighed, "Oh, alright, I guess I could look his information up. Greg Sanders, you said?"

Sara nodded, and Felicia pushed a few buttons on her keyboard, "Miss Sidle, I'm sorry, Mr. Sanders checked out a few hours ago, he didn't leave a forwarding address. I had to say, I was quite surprised he finally checked out. He's been staying in room 214 for almost a month now." Her lips formed an 'oh' when she realized that Sara had told her he had been missing for a month.

Felicia leaned forward to Sara, whispering quietly, "We're not normally allowed to do this, but if you want, I can let you into his hotel room and you can search for any, I don't know, clues or something before housekeeping starts cleaning it."

Sara nodded, her expression turning from sad to anxious within moments, "That would be great, you're such a big help."

"Thank you." Felicia said with a proud smile as she pulled out a small plastic card, "Room 214, just don't let anyone know I gave you this, I need to keep this job all summer, I'm starting college in the fall, SLU. My parents would be so mad if they found out I was fired for something like this."

With a grateful smile, Sara rushed towards the elevator, hoping that Greg left something behind that would indicate where he was hiding now.

When she stepped foot in the hotel room, her wishes were answered. Taped to the mirror was a letter with her name on it. With a resigned sigh, she unfolded the paper, sat on the bed, and began to read...

_Sara, _

_I know you're probably royally pissed at me, and I don't blame you at all. I took off without a word, I abandoned you when you needed someone on your side, I nearly killed, or maybe even did kill, Warrick and Catherine's baby, and I've been a totally selfish jerk. _

_I've done a lot of thinking over the last couple of weeks, and I've decided that I don't want to do anything that's going to mess up anyone else's life. I love you guys more than my own flesh and blood, and it kills me to know that any of you have suffered because of me and my irresponsible actions. _

_Things have really changed in the last year or two, we started dating, I started working as a CSI instead of a lab-rat, we almost died together, we mourned the loss of a stranger, a felon, but still a stranger, and we bonded in a way I never thought I'd bond with anyone. I love you, I don't think you could even realize how much I love you. _

_I feel so guilty about the accident, about your injuries, about the sadness and anger I know you must be feeling right now. I let you down, I didn't protect you when you needed it. I let Warrick and Catherine down, I was supposed to be their friend, and I took their baby's life into my own hands. _

_Please, tell them I'm so sorry about causing so much pain and heartache. _

_I let Nick down when I stopped being his friend and grew jealous over your friendship with him, I let Grissom down when I stopped putting my work first and I let my emotions get carried away. While you were unconscious, fighting for your life, I burned every bridge with everyone around me. Now, I realize the error of my ways, but I know it's too late to repair the damage I've caused. _

_I know you're looking for me, and if I know you as well as I think I do, you've enlisted the help of everyone you know to help you search. You've been through a terrible ordeal, Sara, don't forget to recuperate and take time for yourself, you'll find a better man. I think Nick's interested, at the risk of sounded redundant. _

_I knew that when I called you, I hadn't waited long enough, and I knew that you would trace the number. That is why I had to leave, I can't face seeing you right now, because if I see your beautiful face, I won't be able to help myself, and I'll walk right back into your life. I can't do that to you, I can't do that to the others. _

_Please, stop trying to look for me. Try to move on, you're a wonderful woman and there are so many opportunities for you, just don't close yourself off. Any man would be lucky to have you, I sure was. _

_I love you, I will call you when I think the timing is right. Please don't try to follow me...And don't even think about searching this room for evidence of where I'm off to next, I'm a CSI too, you know, I know how to cover my tracks. _

_I'm sorry things turned out the way that they did, please forgive me. _

_Love, _

_Greg_

Sara squeezed the paper tightly, letting out a angry moan of frustration as tears began to build up in her eyes. He wanted her to just let go? To move on? Without him? Was he insane? What the hell was going on through his mind? Where the hell was he?

She fell back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to control her emotions before leaving._ You can run, Sanders._ She thought bitterly,_ But you can't hide._

As she walked through the door, she found herself with a new resolution, not only to find Greg, but to bring him home and slap his head back on straight.

* * *

"We, the jury, find the defendant Jessica Lynn Stokes guilty for 1st degree murder, guilty for obstruction of justice, guilty for conspiracy..."

Nick let out a soft sob as Jessica turned to him, tears shining in her eyes. This couldn't be happening, his big sister couldn't be going to jail, she couldn't have been found guilty.

Travis had been a crazy, abusive, hateful man. Jessica had practically performed a community service by ridding the world of him. He couldn't believe they were going to send her to jail.

Beside him, his mother sobbed loudly into her hands, her head buried in his father's shoulder. On the other side sat his siblings, his sisters crying, his brother shaking his head with a sad face, his hands trembling slightly as he struggled to keep his emotions in check.

Nick leaned forward, placing his hand on Jessica's shoulder to show his support as the sentencing was read out loud. She had managed to escape the death penalty, but was going to be held in prison for the next 75 years, or her death, whichever came first. He wanted to hold her so badly as her shoulders started to violently shake and the tears started to flow. He had never felt so helpless in his entire life.

He was shocked that his family had been in town for the entire week, faithfully attending Jessica's trial. He had been relieved to see him, relieved for their support for Jessica, yet saddened that it had taken an ordeal such as this to bring them all together.

Beside Nick, Karen had her own hand on Jessica's shoulder, "I'm so, so sorry Jessie. If I hadn't married Travis, if I hadn't told anyone what he did...If I hadn't tried to run away...Oh, Jess, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay." Jessica murmured through her own sobs, shrugging off both of her siblings grasps. This was something she'd have to do alone, she would be alone for the rest of her life.

Court was dismissed, and slowly the room began to empty, Jessica being taken away in handcuffs, nearly stumbling over her long orange jumpsuit as she was escorted from her family in tears.

Soon, only the Stokes were left in the courtroom, all consumed in their own grief. Karen and Nick clung together, both sobbing with personal guilt, feeling like they could have stopped her, could have changed things. If only Karen wouldn't have come to Vegas in the first place, if only Nick wouldn't have forced her to confess right away.

Next to Nick and Karen, the other Stokes children sat in stunned silence, unable to accept that their little sister would be in jail for the rest of her life. Jessica had always been the sweet one, the good one, and now she was the convicted one. She wouldn't be coming to Christmas, she wouldn't be the next one getting married...it seemed as if she fit the Stokes mold after all. The family had always worked for the law, and while Nick stayed on the legal side, Jessica picked the other side.

After a few minutes of quiet silence, Nick broke the ice, "I need to get to work, we're short handed right now, and there's no one to cover for me."

"Son, work shouldn't be your priority right now, you are going to spend the evening with your family, they'll manage one shift without you there."

Nick scowled at his father, anger starting to bubble up inside of him. Didn't his father know that work was the only thing keeping him sane? That if he spent the whole evening with the family that the memories, the sadness, the missing Stokes would drive him to insanity?

Deciding it wouldn't be the right time to disobey his father, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed Grissom's number, guilt flooding through his body. Sara had left mid-shift the night before to follow Greg on a chase halfway through the country, Catherine was barely able to work out in the field, and Warrick was worried sick about Catherine's every move. That meant that Grissom would be working on cases alongside a distracted daddy, which was a recipe for disaster. No one functioned well when they were distracted, as all could attest to over the last few months.

Looking at his grieving family, however, he knew he had to stand by their side. All of the fighting he had done to get his parents and siblings to support Jessica weren't going to be written as hypocrisy, he was going to prove that he could be just as loyal as he expected them to be. Telling Grissom the situation, he made an inner vow to have this unfortunate turn start a new, positive chapter of his life.

As he watched his siblings and parents interact, sad smiles creeping onto some of their faces, Nick decided the first step into moving on would be to releasing his inner demons.

In that moment, all of the anger disappeared and he made a vow to himself that he would mend all broken relationships, starting with his family...both blood and work.

* * *

Catherine pulled Lindsey's comforter up to her chest, brushing her blonde hair from her face to her pillow. Asleep, she was a beautiful, sweet angel who could do no wrong, full of innocence and purity. Awake, a miniature cross of Catherine and Eddie, a future hellion on wheels. While Catherine admired Lindsey's sense of compassion and blatant honesty, she couldn't help but enjoy the sleeping child more.

Her hand slid down to her bulging abdomen, coming to rest on the smallest addition to their lives. She hadn't been this relaxed and focused when she was pregnant with Lindsey. She and Eddie had constantly been at each other's throats, her mood swings and his temper clashing like oil and water. With this pregnancy, she had quite a bit more scares, such as the miscarriage threat the previous month, but overall she had been so much more relaxed. While she loathed being pregnant with Lindsey, she was enjoying every moment of this pregnancy, morning sickness, aching joints, fatigue and all.

She quietly slipped out of Lindsey's room, sliding her shoes on once she reached the hallway. Shutting the door with a soft click, she quietly made her way to the living room, "She's asleep."

"Good timing, if we don't leave now, we'll be late." Warrick said quietly, helping her slip her jacket on, "Christina is in the kitchen, starting the dishes, I told her Lindsey was already in bed, and I gave her the list of things that need to be done." He leaned a bit closer, "Think we could get her to stay late so we could have some alone time?"

Catherine rolled her eyes, "Warrick, tomorrow is not a school day, and she's practically a teenager. Do you really think she's going to be awake when we get home from work?"

Warrick sighed, "Depends, do you think Gris will let us out of there on time?"

"Good point." Catherine said with a smirk, grabbing her purse, "Let's go, we'll discuss this later." As she followed Warrick out the door, she called over her shoulder, "By Christina! Call if you need!"

"Come on, Cath!" Warrick said, pulling his fiancé out of the apartment, "Lindsey's old enough to practically babysit herself, let's go!"

Following Warrick to the car, Catherine inhaled deeply, sighing contentedly. Things just couldn't get any better than they were right now. For once, her life was perfect.

* * *

"Well, I'm sorry." Sara snapped into the phone, "I'm not coming in. My plane just landed, and before I can even think of work, I need to get home, take a shower, and get a few hours of sleep. I'm exhausted, my knee hurts, and I'm not in a good mood at all. Do you really want me in the lab tonight?"

"_Nicky's out, they just read the verdict on his sister. Catherine and Warrick are running late, and I've got a stack of cases. Crime doesn't stop because you're having a bad day, Sara. Get in here, now." _

"No!" Sara snapped, "Tonight was my scheduled night off, and I'm still recovering from knee surgery. I'm taking my night! Besides, if Jessica's verdict was just read, Nick's going to need a friend tonight. I'll see you tomorrow."

She flipped her phone shut, dropping it into her purse and struggling to her feet. Her knee was throbbing painfully from the uncomfortable angle she had been forced to sit in during the flight, and it seemed like her crutches never fully cooperated with her. She pulled her bag from the overhead compartment and slung it over her shoulder, yawning tiredly and slowly making her way to the exit area of the airplane.

The moment she arrived at her car, she gently sat on the seat, careful not to move her leg into any uncomfortable positions as she dug her phone out and dialed a number she had nearly forgotten from neglect.

"_Stokes."_

"Hey there, I thought you could use a friend?" Sara suggested, hearing the sadness in her friend's voice, "Up for some company?"

"_So, I guess you heard the news, huh? Guilty on every charge, life in prison. I'm with my family right now."_

Sara looked down disappointedly, shutting her car door. There went one plan for the evening, it seemed as if she had been replaced as his confidant. Not that it wasn't her own fault, she had been an awful friend for the last couple of months, she had neglected his feelings, his situation, his friendship. If she had been in his shoes, she would have moved on as well. Knowing he had someone to lean on, knowing it was what he needed didn't help as much as it should...it didn't even begin to fill the gaping hole on her heart and the loneliness that consumed her soul.

"_But I'm sure no one would mind meeting you, Sara, I've told them a lot about you." _Nick's voice came across as hopeful, which brightened Sara's mood slightly. Maybe he did still need her, maybe their friendship wasn't completely lost. _"We're at my parent's suite at New York, New York, PH5. Just call when you get here and I'll buzz you up."_

"I'm just leaving the airport, I'll see you in a few." Sara said softly, starting to hesitate, feeling guilty over intruding on a family gathering. "Are you sure this is okay?"

"_I wouldn't have invited you if it wasn't okay. How did New Orleans go?"_

Sara sighed, the sadness clear in her voice, "He doesn't want to be found, he wants me to leave him alone, he plans on disappearing from all of us, permanently."

"_That good, huh?"_ Nick's sad voice replied, _"Don't worry about it, Sar, everything happens for a reason. I mean, look at it this way, it took all of this with Jess to happen just to get my entire family in a room together. You have to look for the good in things, Sara, you can't let the bad consume you."_

"Oh, I'm not letting the bad consume me," Sara said cooly, "Although when I get my hands on his goofy little neck...he worried the hell out of me, and he thinks he can just run away? He's got another thought coming. When I get my hands on him..."

"_And we have a minibar at our disposal..."_

"I'm on my way." Sara said, slamming the car door and flipping her phone shut. Sadness, guilt, anger, and betrayal were all having a battle in Sara's heart, and she had just made the decision not to focus on the pain. It was time to move forward, to try and find happiness at the end of this tunnel of heartache.

45 minutes later, she threw her arms around Nick's neck, "Oh, I'm so sorry about Jessica."

"I'm sorry about Greg." Nick replied, stroking her hair as he embraced her tightly, "I'm sorry about everything. I've been an awful friend to you."

"So have I." Sara murmured in his ear, "Oh, so have I."

Nick pulled away, using his thumb to wipe away a few tears that had fallen on to her cheeks, "Let's get upstairs, everyone is dying to meet you. After we visit for awhile, we can go somewhere more private and talk...just the two of us. It's been awhile."

"Awhile, indeed."

Placing a hand on Sara's back, he led her towards the elevator, feeling like he had someone on his side for the first time in nearly six months. Maybe things would work out for the best in the end after all.

The End.

_If you'd like to see the sequel, where the real resolution happens and trouble starts to brew once more, drop me a reply and tell me so. :-)_

_Thanks to everyone who replied, if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be writing. _

_Jenny_


End file.
